La Folle
by Tigereye77
Summary: When Beth Clemmons disappears, Aaron Hotchner becomes the prime suspect. Can the BAU team save their friend as evidence against him mounts up? Or can he really be guilty? Slight cross-over later in the story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The title is French and translates into "The Madwoman". Just sounds classier in French. Plus, it's pretty much a dead give away to things as is the reason this story has been written. It's my submission to the Psycho Beth challenge in the HotLy Discussion Forum. It'll be a pretty Hotch heavy story, plus expect a few familiar faces from a different show with initials in its title.**

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The pounding in Hotch's head seemed to grow stronger and louder with each passing second and it took him a while to realize that it wasn't just in his head, but someone knocking on his front door. Slowly, Hotch pushed himself up into a sitting position and almost fell back onto the bed as his head swam when the room tilted violently on its axis. He raised his hands to cradle it, fighting the wave of nausea that nearly overwhelmed him. He tried to remember what happened last night and vaguely remembered having drinks somewhere, but he couldn't recall where or with whom.

The knocking on his door continued and with agonizingly slow, deliberate movements, Hotch forced himself to get out of bed and shuffle his way to his front door. He peered out the peep hole and saw a tall man with dark hair, dressed in a dark suit standing there, still knocking. Hotch didn't recognize him.

Slowly, he opened the door and peered cautiously at the stranger. "Yes?"

"Aaron Hotchner?" the man asked. When Hotch nodded slowly, the man continued. "Detective Tom Kramer, DC Metro PD. May I come in?" He showed the FBI man his credentials and badge.

"Of course," Hotch began in a gruff and scratchy voice. He cleared his throat and stepped aside to allow the man inside his apartment. He was surprised to see a uniformed officer follow the detective into his apartment. He hadn't noticed the other man before.

Hotch closed and locked the door, looking curiously at his two visitors. He assumed this was some sort of consultation, but it was rare that a uniformed officer would accompany the detective and he had never had a detective come to his home asking for the BAU's services. Had his head hurt less he would have realized sooner something was very wrong.

"How may I help you?" Hotch asked.

"Do you know a Beth Clemmons?" Detective Kramer began.

"Beth?" Hotch queried in a surprised voice. "Well, yes. We dated for a while."

"Dated?"

"We broke up several weeks ago," Hotch replied, his eyes narrowing at the other man, the niggling sensation that something was very wrong finally breaking through the haze his throbbing head and thrown him into.

"What was the cause of the break up?"

"What is this all about?" Hotch ignored the other man's question. "Why are you asking me questions about Beth Clemmons?"

"Mr. Hotchner-"

"That's Agent Hotchner," Aaron said sharply. "I'm the Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI."

"I'm aware of that, sir," Kramer continued, "But I'm not here speaking with you as a fellow professional."

"Then why are you here?" Hotch's brow darkened, not liking where this could be going.

"Ms. Clemmons did not show up for work this morning. A concerned colleague went to her apartment. This co-worker has a key and let herself in. Ms. Clemmons' apartment was found in disarray, as though a struggle had taken place. Ms. Clemmons was nowhere to be found and evidence indicates that she may be injured. When questioning her neighbors, several recalled hearing an argument last night. One reported seeing a tall, dark haired man leaving Ms. Clemmons' apartment late at night. She said that she had seen this man before at Ms. Clemmons over the past few months. Ms. Clemmons co-worker gave us your name. Sir, I'll ask again, where were you last night?"

Hotch stared at the man in disbelief. "Beth is missing?"

"Mr. Hotchner, can you tell us where you were last night?" Kramer repeated patiently, but persistently.

Hotch's eyes snapped back towards the detective's face. "You think I have something to do with her disappearance?"

"Please, Mr. Hotchner, if you would just answer the question. Where were you last night?"

"That's _Agent_ Hotchner," the profiler growled by the annoying persistent question. "And I have nothing to do with Beth's disappearance."

At that moment, the Detective's cell phone rang. He excused himself and moved over to the other side of the living room to take his call. As Kramer spoke in a low tone, the uniformed officer kept a silent, but sharp eye on Hotch who tried to sort out what was going on even as his headache grew worse.

Kramer finished his call and walked back towards the other two men. He leveled his gaze at Hotch who glared back at him.

"Agent Hotchner," Kramer said in a firm voice. "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me down to the station house."

"Why?" Hotch snapped.

"We found Ms. Clemmons' car. It had been set fire to and a badly burned body was inside. Female. The general size of Ms. Clemmons. We need to continue this questioning elsewhere."

Hotch stared at Kramer and the uniformed officer as they waited for him to move, but he couldn't. His head still pounding out a rhythmic beat must have affected his hearing.

"Wha-, what are you saying?" Hotch asked in stunned voice.

"Sir, we're asking you to accompany us to the station house. Now."


	2. Chapter 2

Interrogation rooms had become something of a second home to Hotch. He had been in so many that every new one he entered had an air of familiarity to it. It was a comfortable place for him to be in, with the spare furnishings, the harsh lighting, they all seemed to have even the same smell; a mixture of fear, sweat, anxiety and justice. Yes, Aaron Hotchner was comfortable in interrogation rooms, until today.

Today was the first day that Hotch had been on the other side. He always walked into an interrogation room knowing it was his home court. Today was different. Kramer had allowed Hotch to get dressed and the FBI agent had thrown on a pair of jeans, t-shirt and a dress shirt. He realized now that he should have worn his suit. He knew clothing could give one a psychological boost, but never realized how dependent he himself was on it. His suit made him feel authoritative, trustworthy, confident, and it gave him that air of command, instant respect. Right now, he looked like any other suspect being questioned.

Kramer had been exceedingly polite. Perhaps the connection in law enforcement made him extend that extra effort at courtesy. He had gotten Hotch a bottle of water and some aspirins when it became clear the profiler had a headache. Both had helped and Hotch suspected dehydration might have played some part in his minor pain. He actually felt hung over, but he didn't remember drinking too much last night. In fact, he didn't remember much of last night at all.

Jack was away with Jessica this week and next. Hotch had been spending some late nights at the office, attempting to get through the mountain of paperwork he had on his desk so he would have more time to spend with his son when Jack returned from his trip. It also helped him to avoid Beth.

He had broken it off with the woman a few weeks earlier. She had grown increasingly demanding and resentful of the time Hotch was spending at work. While that was understandable and made him realize that this relationship would not work out, what was the final straw was when she began to suspect he was carrying on an affair with someone at work, namely Emily.

It was all completely innocent, but Beth had read too much into the situation. Although he had insisted that Emily tell him of her bad days and she had in one instance, she never confided in him again. However, he recognized when those days came. He always knew. When he suspected Emily was hiding those feelings, he had made it a point to truly study her and learned to read all of her tells.

She was still struggling and she wasn't telling him.

He let the matter slide the first two times, but when the third bad day occurred and she had said nothing to him, he had simply taken matters in to his own hands.

It was after a particularly gruesome case involving yet another serial rapist/killer. The case had taken its toll on all of them so the plane ride back to Quantico was very quiet. Emily's behavior would have gone unnoticed and had by everyone but Hotch. He knew when she was having a bad day when she took the single seat near the front of the plane. This prevented anyone from sitting nearby and engaging her in a conversation or even simply being near enough to see something was wrong. She would also allow the book she had brought with her sit idle on her lap and she would stare for hours out the window as the plane cut through the sky.

When they landed, and as everyone made their weary, separate ways, Hotch had grabbed her elbow, and ignoring her questions, steered her to his car. Despite her demands for an answer, he had simply shoved her into his vehicle, tossed, their bags into the back and drove to a little café he frequented.

The café was fairly empty this late at night. It stayed open 24 hours a day and at 11 pm, it only boasted a few patrons. Hotch found a quiet table in the corner and ordered coffee for himself and tea for Emily.

He remembered the irritated look that she gave him when he ordered their beverages. Before the waitress walked away, Emily stopped the woman and asked for a cheeseburger and fries. When the waitress went to fill their orders, his subordinate sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.

"If you're going to kidnap me, you're buying me dinner."

He had almost cracked a smile at that. Almost. He could see she was attempting to deflect again because though she looked irritated, he could see the faintest trace of anxiety in her eyes.

"You're breaking your promise to me," he began.

Emily raised an eyebrow at that. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hotch smothered an annoyed sigh. With her it was always one step forward, two steps back. He glared at her. "Our deal. When you are having a bad day, you come to me."

"Oh that. Sorry, to disappoint you, Hotch, but I'm not having a bad day," she stated firmly.

She was so convincing Hotch momentarily doubted his assessment. Momentarily. He knew there was something else there.

So, he simply sat back and waited. He knew this was the fastest way to get her to blink first: overwhelm her with his stony silence.

They sat there in silence until their food came. They sat there as Emily ate her food. They sat there when the waitress came back and asked if they wanted dessert. When they had declined, Emily had had enough.

"Fine!" she said in exasperation. She looked at him with angry and wounded eyes. She didn't want to do this and he knew that. A part of him felt terrible for making her go through this, to lay herself bare, make herself vulnerable. He was the same way, but it had to be done. He had to know she was okay. He needed her to do this. For him.

"It's been a tough couple of weeks," she began quietly.

"I know."

"It's been tough on everyone, not just me," Emily continued. She looked curiously at him. "Are you checking in with the others?"

"I'm not interested in the others, I'm interested in you," Hotch replied without any hesitation. At Emily's raised eyebrows, he realized what he had just said and his cheeks began to burn. "Uh, I mean, I'm concerned about the impact it's had, considering everything you've gone through in the past year. I'm not interested in you. Well, I am, but not that way. Not that I wouldn't be. What man wouldn't be interested in you? Wait, er-"

Emily's amused chuckle stopped his babbling and he felt himself leveling her with a glare that only caused her to laugh even more.

"It's okay, Hotch, I knew what you meant," Emily grinned at him. "I know you're with, what's her name again? Beth? How's that going?"

"Its fine," he replied shortly and then sighed in apology when she raised an eyebrow at him. "She has issues with the job and the time I spend out of town."

Emily nodded sympathetically. "That's understandable. It might just take her some time to adjust."

"I'm not sure if I ca-," Hotch's jaw snapped shut when he realized she had managed to re-direct the conversation away from herself. He let out a sound that was a mixture of a growl and snort. "Nice try, but this isn't about me and Beth. It's about you."

It was her turn to sigh and sit back. "I'm fine. It's been a tough week, but I'm okay."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. He looked down at her hands which were resting on top of the table. Unconsciously, she had begun to pick at her nails. Hotch placed a hand gently over hers to still her movements. Emily's eyes dropped down to their connected hands and he could see tears welling in her eyes.

"Talk to me, Em," he said softly.

He watched as she struggled for a few seconds, but slowly, she raised her head to look into his eyes. "I'm hav-"

"Aaron?"

The feminine voice was laced with irritation and anger. Neither Hotch nor Emily had realized that Beth had arrived and was standing next to their table. She looked suspiciously at the couple and directed her eyes to their joined hands.

"Beth?" Hotch asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you," she said, the irritation and anger growing in her face and her tone. "You said this afternoon you would be back around ten o'clock. It's almost midnight right now. I've been waiting for you to come home and you haven't been answering your phone."

Hotch mentally slapped his hand to his forehead. Of course, he had spoken to Beth earlier in the day thinking he would go directly home after they landed, but Emily's state had him too worried and he completely forgot about Beth and his earlier conversation with her.

But Beth had not.

"I'm sorry, Beth, but something came up," Hotch began.

"Obviously," came the acidic reply. She glared pointedly at their joined hands.

Hotch made no move to remove his hand from Emily's, that would have implied they were doing something wrong and they weren't. Emily started to draw her hands back, but Hotch tightened his grip. She tugged a little more insistently and he reluctantly let her go. Emily placed her hands in her lap and looked embarrassedly between the arguing couple. "I think I should leave you two to talk," Emily murmured as she began to slide out of the booth.

"Emily-," Hotch began. He couldn't help but feel a flash of irritation towards Beth. It was always so difficult to get Prentiss to let down her guard and just when she was about to, they're interrupted. "You don't have to go."

The FBI agent glanced at the increasingly angry woman standing by their table. "Oh, I think I do," Emily muttered as she slid completely out of the booth. "Thanks for dinner, Hotch. Don't worry, everything is okay." She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes though he knew she was making a valiant attempt to reassure him. She would have fooled any other person, but he knew her too well. She nodded politely at Beth and then hurried out of the café.

Hotch hesitated a moment and then he was standing up and hastily taking some money out of his wallet. Beth gaped at him.

"You're going after her? We're not finished here!" Beth spat out.

"I drove. She doesn't have a car and I still have her bag." He looked at Beth and sighed. "I'm sorry. It was inconsiderate of me to not let you know there was a change in plans, but Prentiss is going through a very tough time and as her supervisor, I need to know she's okay."

"You're doing far more than what a normal supervisor would be doing," came Beth's tart reply.

"We're friends, Beth. No, we're family. My whole team is family. When one of us is having a problem, we help that person out. That's something you have to realize and understand or-," his voice trailed off.

"Or what, Aaron?" she asked in a low, dangerous tone.

"Or it simply isn't going to work out between us," Hotch finished firmly. "We'll talk later." He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should reach out to her, but decided it would be best if he didn't. With one more apologetic look, he brushed past Beth and hurried out of the café to look for Emily.

Hotch rushed out into the parking lot and scanned the area. He didn't see Emily anywhere. He felt equal parts irritated and concerned. That woman simply insisted on doing everything on her own, with no help and likely in the hardest way possible.

Hotch let out a snort of frustration and hurried over to his car. Within seconds he was pulling out of the parking lot and heading in the direction he thought Emily would take. Unless a cab was in the parking lot of the café when Emily exited, she likely was heading to the nearest public transportation point which was a bus stop two blocks away. Sure enough, a minute later, Hotch could see her walking on the sidewalk about a block from the café. While it was by no means a dangerous neighborhood and Emily was an armed agent, it was still late and she was a woman walking the street alone. That was not going to happen while he was around.

He rolled down the passenger side window as he slowed the car down to a crawl. "Emily!" he called out. "Get into the car, I'll drive you home."

"I'm fine, Hotch," she replied as she continued walking. "I'll just catch a bus back to DC."

"It's almost midnight. The buses have stopped running," he reminded her. That caused Emily to stop and he braked the car.

"Crap," he heard her say and he had to smoother a smug smile of satisfaction.

"Just get in," he repeated. He saw her hesitate. "What? What is it?"

Emily sighed and moved over to the car. She leaned down to look through the rolled down window on the passenger side. "Look, Hotch, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't want to be the cause of any disagreements between you and Beth."

"Prentiss, trust me, you're not." He looked at the road before him for a few seconds before he continued. "It's just not right between us. I've been coming up with excuses to prolong the relationship, but I've known for a while we're just not in synch with each other. What you saw back there, it wasn't about you, it was about me and Beth and the fact we don't fit." He looked back at Emily who was regarding him thoughtfully. "She doesn't understand the job and that means she doesn't understand me. She doesn't understand what we do or that we're all friends. Family."

"Oh, Hotch, I'm sorry it's not working out," Emily murmured softly.

He thought for a moment and then said slowly, "You know what, I'm not. We just weren't meant for each other. She's a nice woman, but she's not the woman for me." He let out a sigh that indicated the discussion was over and then said in a crisp tone, "So get into the car, Prentiss. I'm wasting gas."

She gave him a small grin and opened the car door before she slid into the passenger seat. Hotch waited until she had fastened her seat belt before he said, "And don't think you've gotten out of telling me about your bad day."

She looked over at him in astonishment and dismay but his small grin forced her to give one of her own. Maybe telling him wouldn't be as hard as she thought.

It had been an uncomfortable, tense encounter with Beth, but for some reason, Hotch had fond memories of that night. Emily had opened up to him as he drove her home and then they sat there in his car as she continued to talk. And strangely, as Emily opened up to him, Aaron began to share a little more of himself with her. When he said he understood what she was going through, he truly did. Emily sat there quietly, listening to his every word and Hotch felt a weight that he had grown so accustomed to that he no longer noticed it until it started to lift off of him the more he talked with Emily.

They talked for hours until it was the wee hours of the morning. Emily insisted he spend the night in her guest room rather than make the long drive when he was tired. He had agreed and in her neat, clean guest room, Hotch had slept better than he had in years.

He had expected some awkwardness the next morning. After all, he had spent the night in his female subordinate's home, but there was none. He had woken to the delicious smells of the breakfast Emily was cooking. Their conversation was easy and comfortable and Hotch had never felt so relaxed and at ease before. He had regretfully said goodbye to her after breakfast. As he was leaving, Emily had grabbed his hand.

"Thank you," she said simply and if he hadn't felt rewarded before, those two words made him feel as if he had won the lottery.

"Anytime, Emily," he had smiled back at her.

That was a night that things had changed for Hotch. It was a small shift, but an important one.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews. Hope you enjoy this part!**

That memory of talking to Emily the night through and then waking up in her apartment to the comforting smells of a delicious breakfast; her genuine and shy 'thank you', provided him with some comfort in this tense situation.

Hotch had been sitting in the interrogation room for nearly an hour and was about to simply get up and leave when the door swung open and Kramer walked into the room.

The detective was still dressed in his dark suit and for a moment, Hotch felt as if he was thrown into some bizarre world, as he stared back at a tall, dark-haired man in a suit on the other side of the interrogation table. Then Aaron realized he _had_ been thrust into a bizarre world.

"Detective Thomas Kramer of DC Metro PD speaking with Aaron Hotchner," Kramer said into the microphone placed above the table. He sat down opposite Hotch. Before he would even look at Hotch, Kramer flipped open a file and shuffled through a few papers as he pulled out a pair of reading glasses with his free hand and put them on. The light reflected off of the glasses, making it impossible for Hotch to see the other man's eyes.

"You have been apprised of your rights and have waived the right for counsel to be present?" Kramer queried.

Hotch let out an annoyed huff. It was stupid to speak or answer the detective's questions without a lawyer, but he was a lawyer, plus a skilled interrogator and he had done nothing wrong.

"I have nothing to hide," Hotch said firmly. "Yes, I am speaking to you without a lawyer of my own free will."

Kramer nodded. "Please tell me about your relationship with Beth Clemmons."

"I met her about six months ago while I was training for a marathon. She approached me in the park after a run and suggested we train together."

"She was preparing for the same race?"

"No, one that would take place several months later."

"How did she know you were in training?"

Hotch hesitated. He wasn't proud of himself that he hadn't been concerned about Beth admitting she had been watching him long before she approached him. He had been flattered, but after breaking up with her, he realized it was probably something he should have been concerned about. "She had said she had been watching me train. Swimming at the Y, bike trails and running in the park."

Kramer tilted his head and the lights were no longer reflecting off his glasses, allowing Hotch to see the surprised look on the other man's face. "That didn't cause you some concern that it was obvious she had been watching you long enough to know your habits?"

"I was…flattered. She was an attractive woman who had gone through a lot of trouble to approach me."

"Was?" The insinuation in Kramer's tone hung heavily between them.

"I use the past tense simply because she is not a part of my life and has not been for several weeks."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Kramer still had a suspicious look on his face, but he had moved on.

"About three weeks ago. We had broken up the week before and I still had some of her things at my apartment. I was returning them to her."

"At her apartment?"

"Yes."

"Was it a mutual decision to call things off?"

"No," Hotch replied slowly. "I realized we were incompatible and ended things, but they were pretty much over by that point."

"Did she feel the same way?" Kramer had tilted his head back again and the glare on his glasses made his eyes unreadable, but Hotch had felt the very air sharpen with a tension that was not there before. He knew he had to tread carefully.

"No."

"Why? Did she feel you two were compatible?" Kramer's voice remained calm and professional, but Hotch could tell Kramer was doubting every word of his story.

"She wasn't happy when I broke things off," Hotch supplied. "She was persistent in her calls for a time after the break up and then they stopped about a week or so ago."

Kramer regarded Hotch for a few heartbeats and then suddenly asked, "Was there another woman involved?"

"Absolutely not," Hotch replied firmly.

"But she thought otherwise, didn't she?"

Hotch glared at the other man. He had underestimated Kramer. Either he had far more information than he was letting on or he had a few profiling skills of his own.

"She believed the reason I was breaking up with her was because I had become involved with another woman, but I had not. Beth didn't truly understand the work I did nor the sacrifices it requires me to make sometimes. Canceled dates and dinners. She grew dissatisfied with the amount of time I was spending out of town. It made me realize how incompatible we truly were so I ended it, but she refused to believe that was the reason."

"She called you persistently in the following weeks?"

"Yes."

"But stopped about a week or two ago?"

"Yes."

"Did Ms. Clemmons indicate who she believed you were seeing?"

Hotch's brief hesitation was a dead giveaway and Kramer looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer.

"She thought it was one someone I worked with, one of my agents." Hotch leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, indicating that was all he would say on the subject. He would _not_ drag Emily's name into this mess.

Kramer regarded him carefully. He started to open his mouth to say something but Hotch would never know what it was to be as a knock on the door interrupted the questioning. The uniformed officer who had accompanied Kramer to Hotch's apartment walked in and handed the detective another file. He leaned over and said something in Kramer's ear that Hotch could not hear. The officer then straightened up, glanced at Hotch with a stone-faced expression and then left the room.

Kramer read the file he had just been handed and then took off his reading glasses.

"Well, it seems this new information has changed things a bit," he murmured.

"How so?" Hotch asked.

"The body found in Ms. Clemmons car was too badly burned to be identified, but her teeth were intact. Ms. Clemmons was also a very organized individual and it was an easy matter to contact her dentist who sent over her dental records immediately. They were a match. That was Beth Clemmons in the car. We'll be here for a while, Mr. Hotchner."

Hotch sat there, stunned that Beth was dead that it took him a few moments before he realized that Kramer was looking at him as a suspect in her death. He inhaled a shaky breath. "I'd like to make a phone call now."

Frank Williams strode rapidly through the hallway into the bullpen of the BAU. Agents looked up curiously as the Assistant Director made his way to where Aaron Hotchner's team was assembled around the cluster of desks that belonged to Prentiss, Reid and Jareau.

"Conference room now," Williams barked out, not even breaking stride as he headed directly to the room they typically used for their briefings.

The agents exchanged glances, but got up and followed the AD. He closed the door after Morgan and waited until they were all seated around the roundtable. Williams' eyes went the assembled team: Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Reid, the tech analyst, Garcia and finally, on Prentiss. Each of them looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern on their faces.

"An hour ago I received a phone call from Agent Hotchner," Williams began.

"Oh, good, we were getting worried about him," Garcia began, but none of the agents were comforted. They grew tenser. They knew if Hotch was calling Williams, who was now supervising them in Strauss' absence, something had happened. Something bad.

"Agent Hotchner was brought into questioning by DC Metro in the disappearance of Beth Clemmons."

"What?" Morgan barked out, leaping to his feet. "They're treating Hotch like a suspect?"

"Sit down, Agent Morgan," Williams said sharply. He did not need this to spiral out of control. When Morgan didn't budge, the AD leveled a hard stare at the younger man. "Sit down, now."

Slowly, Morgan sat down.

"What's going on?" Rossi asked in a calm voice.

"I only have the barest of details and that's all I'm going to get and I shouldn't even be sharing any of this with you," Williams continued. "Last night Beth Clemmons disappeared from her apartment. When she didn't show up for work, a co-worker went to check up on her. It looked like a struggle had taken place there and blood was found. Preliminary tests indicate its Ms. Clemmons' blood type. A witness places Agent Hotchner at her place yesterday evening."

"But Hotch broke up with her weeks ago," Rossi murmured. "He's been actively avoiding her. Why would he be at her apartment?"

The others looked at Rossi in surprise. The older profile was the only one who knew of the current state of Hotch's relationship with the curator. They all thought he was still dating her.

"Agent Hotchner hasn't been charged, but he is being questioned," Williams continued. "The Agency cannot be involved in this investigation in any way." He stared hard at each of them. "That is why I am telling this team to stand down and for all of you to take a two-week leave."

They all began to protest loudly, except for Rossi who gazed at the other man thoughtfully.

"Enough!" Williams roared. "I will NOT have any arguments. Leave is to commence immediately and that includes you TA Garcia. And mind you, we will be monitoring all of your accounts so no use of Bureau resources for you own investigation. I repeat, there must not be _any_ Agency involvement in this case. Any. Now, all of you, get your things and get out of here. Now." He spun on his heel and left the room.

"Can you believe that?" JJ sputtered out in indignation.

"We're not just going to leave Hotch to fend for himself, are we?" Reid asked.

Rossi shook his head. "Don't you see what Williams just did?"

"Yeah, he told us not to help Hotch at all," Garcia puffed out in irritation.

Rossi exchanged looks with Morgan and Prentiss.

"Baby Girl, the FBI can't touch this case or it could be seen as a cover up," Morgan explained.

"And Williams just gave us two weeks off to run our own investigation," Emily said. "He can't sanction anything or help us, but he's giving us time to work on this."

"It's the best Williams can do in this situation, and more than we can expect. So I suggest we all meet up at my house and go from there," Rossi said as he stood up, a determined look on his face.

"You don't think they actually believe Hotch had something to do with Beth's disappearance?" Garcia asked as they stood and started to head out of the room.

Rossi hesitated. "We'll have a better idea once we get some details on the investigation, but the fact that Williams is telling us to stand down now means he expects this to be a bad one."

"You think he knows more than he's saying?" JJ queried.

"Oh, definitely, but he won't tell us," Rossi replied. "We need to get some details on the investigation. Anyone has a good in with DC Metro?"

They looked at each other and while several of the agents had some type of relationship with a DC police officer, they knew it wasn't enough to get information on this type of case. Given the FBI connection and Hotch's position here, Metro will be even more closed mouth than usual and only a very select few will have access to the details of the case.

"We need that case file. We have to know what they have on the case and what they might have against Hotch," Rossi stressed.

"I might know someone who might be able to help us," Emily said slowly. "He's not DC Metro, but he has a lot of connections there."

Rossi nodded. "You go work that angle, Prentiss. The rest of you, get your stuff and meet at my house for further planning."

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**A/N 2: The crossover with another show that I hinted about appears in the next part but people who are familiar with some of my other work may have worked out what show that's going to be!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you all for the kind comments. This is the part where you see the cross-over begin, but it's not going to take over the story. It will be around for a few parts, but this is really a BAU investigation.**

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Leroy Jethro Gibbs glanced around the small park and spotted her immediately. She sat on a stone bench sipping a small cup of what he knew was tea. Emily had given up coffee since her return from Paris. He didn't know how she could drink that swill.

"That for me?" Gibbs asked as he nodded at the coffee cup that was next to Emily on the bench.

"Of course," she replied with a smile as she handed him the drink. Gibbs took it and sat down next to her. He took a long sip, savoring the taste of the bitter brew on his tongue. Perfect.

"What was this favor you wanted to ask me for?" he began, getting right to the point. Whatever it was, he knew it was important because Emily Prentiss never asked for favors. For her to call him out of the blue for one meant whatever it was needed immediate attention. He also knew that he was going to do whatever she asked, because that was what he did for family.

"I was wondering who you might know over at DC Metro who might be able to get me some information on a case," Emily began.

Gibbs stared at her thoughtfully. She had spoken calmly, but there was a level of anxiety in her dark eyes. If this was a simple case, she wouldn't be calling him in for a favor. The Bureau should be able to get her information if only on a courtesy basis. So there was something personal involved.

"What's the case on?" Gibbs took another sip of his coffee.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hesitate and then bite her lip. Nervousness. There was something big going on here and whatever it was, she wasn't certain if he was going to like it and refuse to help her. Gibbs was not looking forward to hearing what this was about.

"Agent Hotchner was brought in for questioning in the disappearance of his former girlfriend, Beth Clemmons."

Yep, he didn't like this.

"That woman he met in the park?" Emily had mentioned her once to Gibbs and it had just added to his already unfavorable impression of the other man. Here was Emily, a perfect woman right in front of Hotchner, who he obviously had feelings for and which Gibbs suspected she returned, and the idiot goes and hooks up with some woman in the park who had been stalking him.

Dumbass.

"Yes. They've been dating about six months but I just found out he broke up with her a few weeks ago. She also was pretty persistent in contacting him post-break-up."

"What do you expect from a stalker?" Gibbs sneered out disdainfully. He paused a moment to think before asking, "So what do they have on Hotchner?"

Emily gave him the scant details she had, which wasn't much. Gibbs looked skeptically at her. "You aren't giving me much to go on here, Emily."

"Oh come on, Gibbs," she wheedled. "I know you have pretty good relations with a lot of the DC metro detectives. If anyone can find out something about this case, it's you."

Gibbs sighed. He really wouldn't deny Emily anything, but she was asking a favor really for Hotchner, a man Gibbs didn't particularly like and he knew the sentiment was returned by the FBI man. Plus if he got involved, it would make the situation incredibly sticky. Given the proximity with federal government, Metro PD had touchy relations with federal law enforcement agencies whom the locals felt all too often stepped into their jurisdiction. He wasn't Bureau, but Gibbs was a fed, and he would be looked at with the same suspicion if he had come from Hotchner's agency. Gibbs had no reason to be involved in the case so he would have to call in a favor.

She placed a hand on his wrist. "Please," she asked softly, her eyes wide and pleading.

Crap, she always got him with those big doe eyes.

"Fine!" Gibbs sighed loudly. "I'll make some calls, but you have to understand you might not like everything I find out."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Emily, you know, when you go down a path like this where rocks are being turned over, sometimes you find stuff you won't like." He gazed seriously into her eyes.

"Gibbs, this is Hotch. Aaron Hotchner. The guy is straighter than an arrow and you know that. He had absolutely nothing to do with Beth's disappearance." Emily almost laughed at him.

"I'm not talking about the disappearance, Emily," Gibbs warned her. "If Hotchner is a suspect, they're going to delve into all aspects of his life. They're going to examine everything with a microscope and what they find might change your opinion of the man."

She knows this. Hell, it was what she did for a living. She knew the affects of telling friends and family something about a loved one that they didn't know before. How many times had she heard, "I never would have thought him capable of that!" But this was _Hotch_! There was nothing about this man that could surprise her. There was such an air of trueness and predictability about him.

Emily shook her head firmly. "There's nothing about Hotch that could make me change my opinion of him."

Gibbs' ice blue gaze pierced her with its intensity. She could tell he thought she was being too blind to things, too naïve, but he didn't know Hotch as well as she did. This investigation wasn't going to turn up anything shocking on the man.

"Okay, I'll see what I can find out," he finally said.

"Thank you," Emily murmured. "I know you don't like Hotch, so thank you for doing this for me."

"It's the only reason I'm doing it." He gazed fondly at her. "And don't be surprised if I tell Hotchner that he's damn lucky to have you in his corner."

* * *

"You're certain you don't want an attorney present?" Kramer asked again. He didn't have to ask him this again. Hotchner had already waived his rights, but the detective felt he had to offer him this opportunity one more time in light of a positive identification of the body.

"No, I've already told you I'm fine to do this," Hotch replied, though he appreciated the gesture the other man made. He has taught classes, written books and articles on how to interrogate a suspect. He could handle himself in this situation.

"Very well," Kramer replied, slipping on his reading glasses once more. He flipped through a few more pages in the file he had before him. "Elizabeth Clemmons, aged 43, born in Alexandria, Virginia. Senior Curator for the Lingerhoff Art Gallery. Tell me a little bit about her. I'd like to know who she was."

Hotch raised an eyebrow at this. It was a crude, clumsy tactic to get him to talk and potentially reveal things about his relationship with Beth that could be incriminating. Maybe Kramer wasn't as sophisticated as Hotch had initially believed.

"What would you like to know?" Hotch replied evenly.

"You dated for how long?"

"Just a little under six months."

"When did you begin to suspect things wouldn't work out with her?"

Hotch thought for a moment. The incident with Emily was simply the tipping point, but he had begun to have doubts about Beth and he shortly after the triathlon.

"It was about three months after I first met her. There were a spate of cases that kept me out of town for about two weeks. I had to cancel on her a few times. She was upset about that, but I explained early on in our relationship the demands of my job. After talking about it, she seemed to understand and things were fine for a few more weeks."

"So when did they turn again."

When had it turned again? Hotch thought back and remembered the incident that seemed to set Beth on this spiral.

"So you called Beth to join us?" Rossi asked Hotch as he slid down into the seat next to the younger man.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure she'd want to come out, but with the rush of cases we've had recently, we haven't had much time to be together. So when the team decided to go get a drink when we landed, I thought she might like to join us. After all, she hasn't been around you guys since the triathlon."

"Don't worry, Aaron, we'll try not to embarrass you." Rossi grinned mischievously at him.

Hotch let out a small snort but then his face broke into a grin when he saw Beth walk into the bar. He waved to get her attention and she smiled and returned the gesture. She made her way through the crowd until she was at their table. "Hey Hotchner!"

He kissed her on the cheek and she looped her arm through his. Beth turned to Dave. "It's David Rossi, right?"

Rossi smiled and gave her a small, courtly bow. "That is correct, Beth."

"Where's everyone else?" she asked after Hotch took her drink order and hurried off to get it.

"Well, Morgan and Reid are over there flirting, or trying to flirt in Reid's case, with some young ladies. Our own young ladies are late. They wanted to change and should be here any moment. Ah, speak of the devils." He nodded towards the doorway.

Beth turned and saw three women, two blondes and a brunette walking in, laughing at something. Their appearance drew the eyes of many men. Beth turned her head to look for Aaron and her eyes narrowed when she saw where his attention was drawn or rather to whom it was drawn.

He was staring at the brunette.

Beth's eyes narrowed even more and she turned to look back at the women. The two blondes she knew were in committed relationships, but the brunette was single. And beautiful. She was dressed in a red sheath dress with a modest neckline and a hemline that came down to her knees. On any other woman it would have looked rather prim, but on this woman, she looked sexy and alluring. She was tall and willowy, but with a generous chest. Her features were striking, too unique to be classically beautiful, but a beauty that stunned and captivated men. Beth's eyes went back to Aaron and she saw he was still gazing admiringly at the other woman. Finally, he seemed to shake himself from his dazed state and he moved forward towards their table again.

"Here's your drink," he smiled at Beth as he set the martini before her.

Anger simmered in her eyes, but he seemed not to notice. Hotch was acting as if he had done nothing wrong, as if she hadn't just caught him ogling another woman right in front of her. Before she could make some snippy comment, the trio of women made it to their table.

"Oh, so you finally decided to show up," Rossi joked.

"Hey, this type of beauty takes time!" Garcia pointed out.

Emily rolled her eyes. "I was done in fifteen minutes. I had to wait for these two," she teased.

"Not all of us can claim to be natural beauties," JJ shot back playfully.

"Well, you all look lovely," Hotch said in a gallant manner.

Beth sucked in her breath as his eyes seemed to linger on the brunette. The bitch was smiling at him and he was responding.

The three women beamed back at him. Hotch handing out compliments was as a rare thing.

"Thank you, sir!" Garcia said smartly.

"Oh, you remember, Beth, right?" Hotch gestured to the woman next to him.

The BAU women smiled graciously at her which she returned with a tight smile of her own. Emily and JJ glanced at each other, picking up on the tension the woman seemed to be exuding and which everyone else at the table was missing.

"Princess! Baby Girl!"

All heads turned as Morgan made his frazzled way towards them. He nodded absently at the others but was focused on the two women he had called out to. "You guys have got to help me and Reid!"

"What trouble did you two get into this time?" Emily sighed.

"We were just chatting up some honeys and well, they weren't what we expected," Morgan said sheepishly. "And they seem to be multiplying."

"Not what you expected? Multiplying? What do you mean?" JJ frowned.

"They're scary," Morgan replied. "I think they're trying to devour me and Reid alive." He glanced nervously at where he had left his wingman. "I mean, two, even three, I can handle, but they somehow just seemed to start coming out of nowhere after a while. And their drunk." Morgan paused for a beat. "And underaged."

The women nodded knowingly. Morgan was a ladies' man, but he wasn't a cradle robber and even young Reid was reluctant to date anyone under 25.

"Hmm, I bet you started getting a crowd after you two showed your badges," Emily returned crisply. She looked over at JJ and Garcia and suddenly the three women burst into giggles.

"Big ladies man Morgan can't handle too many women at once, it seems," snickered JJ.

"Oh, my poor Chocolate God, scared by a bunch of little girls," Garcia laughed.

"Come on, Cassanova, show us this angry mob we need to save you from," Emily said as she took Morgan's arm.

As she walked past him, Hotch grabbed her arm to stop her. "Just go easy on them, Prentiss. I don't want to have to deal with the paper work," he deadpanned, though there was a glint of humor in his eyes.

"I promise not to rough too many of them up, sir," she replied solemnly, but allowed her eyes to dance back at him.

JJ's amused grin faded as she happened to turn to look at Beth who had been watching Hotch and Emily. The other brunette's expression hadn't changed much, but if one looked closely, there was a strange hardening of her eyes and a tightening of her jaw. JJ watched as Beth glanced down to where Hotch had his hand on Emily's arm and a prickle of unease crept up her spine.

"I'm coming too," JJ suddenly said. Typically, Morgan didn't include her in these types of things because she was usually here with Will. But Will had taken Henry to Louisiana to visit relatives that week and JJ didn't want to be around Beth anymore. She'd be happy to help Reid and Morgan preserve their honor by fighting off overly-sexed, drunk, under-aged college girls. Besides, Beth was definitely making her uncomfortable.

"Maybe Hotch and Rossi should go instead. You know, they can pretend to be your older, gay lovers," Emily said in a sassy tone.

Garcia and JJ broke out into another round of giggles as Rossi and Hotch glared at the brunette agent.

"Scram!" Rossi snarled at them, but amusement was in his eyes.

The three women scurried off with Morgan to save Reid who was by this point completely surrounded by the mob of girls. Beth and the two BAU men watched as the three female agents waded through the crowd, effectively and efficiently cutting a path until they got to Reid. After a few minutes, most of the college girls had wandered off, but a few persistent ones hung about, glaring at the three women.

JJ and Garcia flanked Reid protectively by sitting on either side of him while Emily held onto Morgan. Or rather, the buff agent clung to her, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Who knew a large crowd of drunken, under-aged college girls could freak out Morgan?

Suddenly, Derek was pulling Emily out onto the dance floor. The song playing was slow and sensual as was the dance Morgan and Prentiss were engaged in. They moved languidly against each other, bodies grinding, hands wandering. Morgan's hand crept down and cupped one cheek of Emily's derriere. They could see her discretely pinch the skin on Morgan's neck. The man winced and the hand shifted up to a more decorous place to her waist.

Hotch frowned at the display. "I might have to have a talk with Morgan about manners."

"I think Emily can handle herself," Rossi said, amused by the events.

"It seems she's enjoying herself. I think that type of woman is quite fine with behavior like that," Beth said, with a disdainful sniff.

The two men looked at her in surprise.

"Dressed like that," Beth continued, nodding at Emily. "She's obviously looking for one thing and one thing only. A woman like that invites the groping."

"Beth," Hotch warned her in a tone clearly indicated he was unhappy with her comments. "You know nothing about Emily and could not be more wrong about her."

Beth stared at him in disbelief. He was chastising _her_ about _that woman_ in front of someone else? She's the girlfriend!

"Er," Rossi said, recognizing the beginnings of a fight and not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. "I'm going to go get another drink. Excuse me." He hurried off.

Hotch felt a wave of irritation towards Beth, first for her completely unfounded and catty remarks about Prentiss and now for making Rossi uncomfortable. Tonight was supposed to be fun and a chance for Beth and the team to get to know each other better. She had spent the entire breakfast after the triathlon focused on Jack and had ignored his team. Tonight was supposed to be different.

"Beth, I think we need to get one thing clear, these people, my team, are very important to me. They're family. They've supported me through some very rough times in my life and the only person more important than they are is Jack. I will not have anything negative said about them or have them made to feel uncomfortable." He spoke in a quiet, firm tone. He liked Beth, he truly did. But their relationship was new and if this was an indication of how she judged people she didn't know, especially those who were so dear to him, he was willing to end things right now.

Beth could feel panic fill her veins. He would break up with her, over them? Over her? Oh, he hadn't said anything specific about that woman, but it was obvious Aaron was concerned about that Emily. Beth's eyes sidled over to the dance floor where the other brunette's arms were now looped around Morgan's neck and his hands were placed chastely around her waist. Their bodies were no longer pressed up against each other, the drunken college girls having been sufficiently warned off, but Beth wasn't fooled. This was all a ploy to get Aaron's attention. That's all _that_ woman wanted.

And she was succeeding.

Beth switched her demeanor. She dropped her eyes apologetically. "I'm sorry, Aaron," she said so softly he had to step closer to hear her. If anyone would have glanced over at them they would look like two lovers sharing an intimate moment. "You're right, I'm being far too judgmental about someone I don't know anything about." She looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I'm sorry."

Hotch regarded her for a moment and then allowed a small smile to appear. He wrapped an arm around Beth to pull her close and placed a small kiss on her head.

The rest of the night had passed pleasantly, but reflecting back on it, Hotch recalled that it appeared as if Emily and JJ were deliberately avoiding Beth. His then girlfriend had been charming and endearing the rest of the night, but focused most of her attention on him. He will admit, he had enjoyed himself. And later that night, she had been attentive to his every need and wish. Yes, at the time, he thought, after a small bump, things were fine.

In retrospect, he knew he was very wrong.

* * *

**A/N 2: Yes, in my world, Gibbs and Hotch don't get along, partly because in a lot of ways they're too similar, too alpha, plus Emily is a bit of a sore point between them, though Gibbs does _not_ have romantic designs on her. He's just protective because he considers her family and he blames Hotch for failing to take better care of Emily during the whole Doyle incident.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The plot thickens…**

* * *

"She had trouble understanding why I was so close to my team members. You understand that deep bounds are forged between you and the ones who watch your back in dangerous situations. Beth wasn't law enforcement. She couldn't comprehend that the horrible things we saw day in and day out actually brought us closer together. We weren't reminded of the horrible things we saw when we looked at each other. We were reminded of the good there is in the world and that we aren't alone in our efforts."

"Was there one particular agent she seemed concerned about?"

Hotch remembered Beth's comments about Emily that night, but he still refused to bring the female agent into this mess.

"She expressed comments regarding several of my agents."

"Not anyone in particular?" the detective persisted.

"As I said, Beth made comments regarding several of my agents," Aaron repeated firmly.

Kramer peered at Hotch over the tops of his reading glasses, but probed no further. Instead, he took off his reading glasses and leaned back into his chair. He regarded Hotch for a few silent seconds, staring into the FBI agent's inscrutable eyes. Kramer picked up a pen and began to idly doodle on a pad of paper before him. He drew a series of coils, his pen moving in a rhythmic way as his pen glided across the paper. He continued doing this for several seconds, Hotch ignoring what he was doing and continuing to look directly at the other man.

"So, tell me where you were last night." Kramer finally asked.

Though his face remained impassive, Hotch couldn't help but feel his stomach roil uneasily. He couldn't remember where he was or what he did the night before. His headache had subsided thanks to the water and aspirin, but his recollection of yesterday was still fuzzy and enormous gaps remained. Something was wrong with him or something wrong had been done to him. Hotch knew he was not prone to black outs and this gap in his memories to happen with Beth's death, it was too much of a coincidence.

"Agent Hotchner?" Kramer repeated as the other man continued his silence.

He had to be honest with Kramer. Anything else would be seen as an attempt to hide something and would make him look guiltier than he already did to the detective. Though, Hotch doubted this was going to make him look that great either. "I can't exactly remember," Hotch finally said in a reluctant tone.

"I'm sorry?" Kramer arched an eyebrow.

Hotch sighed. "I can't remember what I did last night."

Kramer pursed his lips together and then let out a small puff of air. "Okay, what is the last thing you do remember from yesterday?"

Hotch thought hard. "I was at the office. We had several consultations in the morning and the afternoon and part of the evening was spent doing paperwork." It was a quiet day. He could see himself in his office at the BAU, working steadily at his desk. He would pause now and then to stretch or take a small breather. Usually, his eyes would wander and he would find himself looking out into the bullpen.

Emily. He remembered she was wearing a red blouse yesterday and she had been leaning against her desk talking animatedly with Reid and JJ. He had watched them for a few minutes, thinking how good it was to see her back at her desk. He had refused to fill her position when she was gone, always finding fault with potential candidates that Strauss had tried to force on him. Even when Seaver was briefly with them, she had known better than to sit at Emily's desk, the desk that was clearly visible to Hotch. For months, he had looked out into the bullpen and only saw that one unoccupied space. Now, Prentiss was finally back where she belonged. It had been a good feeling seeing her, a feeling of rightness and contentment. Hotch then turned his attention to the file in front of him and went back to his work.

"That's all you remember? Just being at the office. You must have left since we found you at home. Do you remember driving home? Making any stops anywhere."

Slowly, Hotch shook his head. "No. The next thing I remember is you knocking on my door."

"I see." Hotch glanced sharply at the detective, hearing the disbelieving tone in the other man's voice. "We do have some idea of where you spent part of your evening."

"Where?" That uneasy feeling was back. Kramer knew much more than Hotch did at this point and he had been slowly revealing it bit by bit in a way where he could use it to his greatest advantage.

Kramer stood up and went to the door of the interrogation room. He opened it and spoke to someone on the other side. A few minutes later, an officer handed Kramer a laptop. The detective sat back down at the table and put the laptop between Hotch and himself so both men could watch the screen. Kramer tapped a few buttons and video footage of a hallway appeared. Hotch recognized the location: it was the hallway to Beth's apartment.

"We checked the security cameras in Ms. Clemmons' apartment building. This footage is from the floor she lives on. As you can see, there's a clear shot of her front door." They waited in silence and a few seconds later, Hotch appeared in the film. He knocked and Beth answered the door. He went into the apartment and the door closed behind him.

Hotch swallowed thickly. He could tell from the date and time stamp of the footage, it was taken at 9:17 pm last night. He had gone to Beth's.

"What time does it show me leaving?" Aaron asked quietly.

"Ah, that's the interesting thing," Kramer said as he tapped a few keys to fast forward the footage. It had progressed to 10:32 pm when suddenly snow filled the screen. Kramer kept it on fast forward and then the picture reappeared at 2:39 am. "Someone tampered with the camera. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch stared into Kramer's piercing eyes. He had no explanation. He had no memory. But the footage clearly put him at Beth's last night.

"I think it's time for me to invoke my rights," Hotch said in a low tone.

"Good idea."

* * *

When Emily arrived at Rossi's house, all she found was Garcia furiously working at her laptop.

"Where is everybody?" the brunette asked the tech.

Garcia looked up from her computer screen and looked around the room vaguely. "Uhm, Morgan and JJ went to check out Beth's apartment and Rossi and Reid are at the art gallery she worked at. I'm gathering as much information as I can on Beth. We know Hotch didn't do anything to her, but doesn't mean someone else didn't have it in for her or something."

"There's another possibility," Emily said slowly as she sat down on the couch next to Garcia.

"What?"

"Someone trying to get back at Hotch."

Penelope sucked in her breath. "Another Foyet?"

Emily shrugged. "Hotch has put away a lot of bad guys in his career. We have to consider the possibility that someone could have gone after Beth to get to Hotch."

"But you heard him," Garcia protested. "Hotch broke up with her weeks ago."

"Did you know about it?" When Garcia shook her head, Emily replied, "Neither did I. And maybe the person who did this didn't know either. Besides checking out Beth, you better start compiling a list of potential suspects who have a grudge against Hotch."

"Emily, that's a huge list!"

Prentiss sighed. "I know, but we're going to have to consider it until something discounts that avenue." She stood up and started to leave again.

"Where are you going?"

"Hotch's apartment. If the others can't get into Beth's place, if my contact can't get the case file and we can't talk to Hotch, where going to have to try to figure out how he spent last night in order to clear him of any suspicion. I'm going to see what his apartment can tell me."

* * *

"That's the last of them," JJ said as the final police car pulled away from the curb to follow the technician van down the street. "The apartment should be empty."

"Let's go," Morgan said as he got out of the car. JJ followed close behind.

Beth lived in a secure building but after randomly pressing a dozen buttons, one of the residents simply buzzed them in, thinking they had a visitor. JJ and Morgan entered and silently took the elevator up to the fifth floor.

The yellow crime scene tape clearly indicated which apartment belonged to Beth Clemmons. With JJ keeping a watch out, Morgan carefully peeled back the tape and attempted to pick the lock.

"Damn, we should have waited for Prentiss for this one," Morgan grumbled as he clumsily tried to open the door.

"Kicking it down is more your method," JJ said half-teasingly. She shifted uneasily on her feet. "Hurry up. I feel so exposed here. You know if we're caught, we'll be lucky to keep our jobs."

"You can bail now, JJ, and no one would think any less of you."

The blonde snorted. Of course they would. She would think less of herself at least. All of them were willing to risk their careers and lives for Hotch, but if they could avoid being fired and brought up on potential tampering charges, she'd be much happier.

"Got it," Morgan muttered as they heard a faint click. The door swung open and ducking under the remaining tape, they slipped into the apartment and quietly closed the door behind them.

The apartment was in shambles. It was obvious that a fight had taken place there. Furniture was askew, broken glass littered the floor. Knickknacks and books were strewn about. A bowl of fruit had been upset and the contents had rolled haphazardly across the floor. But most disconcerting were the telltale reddish-brown stains on one wall.

"God, what happened here?" JJ whispered, her eyes wide.

Morgan was frowning however. "Do we know if anyone called in a disturbance?"

"I'm not sure."

"You don't get this type of destruction without making a lot of noise. And this building? Built in the early 80's. The walls aren't particularly thick. Her neighbors should have heard something."

"They may not have wanted to get involved. That happens a lot these days. Or the apartments are empty. I'll make sure Garcia looks into it," JJ said as she began to move around the apartment.

They worked in silence for a few moments, careful to disturb things as little as possible or if they had to move something, to put it back exactly where they had found it.

At one point, Morgan picked up a photograph of Beth and Hotch. The glass had been shattered and the photo itself was concaved in from the damage. "She obviously had a hard time letting go."

JJ glanced over at the picture and snorted softly. At Morgan's raised eyebrow she elaborated. "I didn't really like her."

Morgan looked surprise. "Really? Why? I only met her a few times and didn't get to know her too well."

"Me too, but something about her just set my teeth on edge. She was fine around you guys, but I swear, she seemed to glare at me and Emily all the time. Especially Em."

"Glare at you?"

"If I didn't know any better, I would say she thought one of us was having an affair with Hotch."

Morgan was silent for half a beat too long and JJ raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Morgan muttered as he continued to search the apartment.

"No, it's something. What?"

Derek sighed as he straightened up from the desk he had been rifling through. "I don't know, but sometimes with Hotch and Prentiss…"

"Hotch and Prentiss what?" JJ persisted when Morgan stopped again.

"I can kinda see why Beth might have thought something could be going on between those two because of the way they look at each other sometimes." At JJ's incredulous look, Morgan shook his head. "Have you ever noticed how in tune they seem with each other? How they even move in an almost synchronized fashion."

"It just comes from working together for so long."

"JJ, Em's my partner. We're not even that in tune with each other. And then there's Doyle…"

"What about Doyle?" JJ's voice was sharp. Even after all these months, she was still sensitive to any criticism for the actions they took to protect Emily.

"Did Hotch ever come down once on Emily for keeping Doyle a secret from him?" Morgan asked quietly. "You know how he is about being told everything, about protocols. But he never once said anything to her. Didn't even put her on probation when she came back. Nothing. He did that with that case that involved her old friends. Matthew and that John Cooley guy. He seems to give her a lot of leeway."

"That's not true. Hotch sent her home in the middle of that case involving her friends."

"But she pressed on it and he backed down." Morgan shook his head. "Maybe I'm like Beth and I'm seeing things, but I'm just saying even if it means nothing, the way Hotch acts around Emily sometimes, it could give a girlfriend the wrong idea."

While Morgan turned his attention back to the desk, JJ wandered silently into Beth's bedroom. For a moment, she simply stared into the open closet door as Morgan's words played over in her mind. She had to admit, there were times where she wondered about her two friends and if perhaps there was something more there. She could hear Hotch clearly as he interrogated Clyde Easter, "If anything happens to her, I will destroy you." It was said in such a cold and deadly tone, a voice JJ had never heard come from Hotch before, she wasn't sure what to make of it then and she wasn't sure now.

The blonde sighed and shook her head as though to clear it. She moved over to the closet and began to search it. As she looked at Beth's clothes, something began to niggle at the back of her head. She frowned, pausing every now and then to examine a piece of clothing more closely.

"Morgan!" she called out as she continued to flick through the assorted dresses, jackets, and blouses.

"Find something?" he asked as he stepped into the bedroom.

JJ pulled out a dress from the closet. "Look familiar?"

Morgan gave her a puzzled look. "Uhm, no? Should it?"

JJ shoved the dress back into the closet and pulled out a blouse. "How about this?" She reached back in and pulled out another blouse. "Or this?" She grabbed a jacket next. "Or this?"

"JJ, what are you getting at."

"These clothes! I would say about 30% of these clothes I've seen before."

"You've seen Beth that much?"

"No! That's the point! These are the exact same clothes Emily has!"

"I'm going to guess that it's too much to hope for that maybe Beth was just shopping at the same places and they have the same taste?"

JJ snorted. "Hardly. Look at the rest of her clothes that from the style and wear, she's had much longer than these other items. Completely different style and taste. Hell, the colors aren't even in the same family. And look, some of these clothes that are the same as Em's, still have their tags on them."

"What the Hell was she doing copying Prentiss' wardrobe. And how would Beth know what Emily owned?" Morgan mused.

"Only one way: Beth was watching Emily."

* * *

**A/N 2: Even more complications! Please let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hmmmm, was Beth stalking Emily? Why can't Hotch remember anything? Is Beth really dead? Thanks for the kind comments. I am trying to make this a bit of a mystery here. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"I demand to speak with your supervisor!" the older, dark-haired man bellowed out.

"Sir, I tell you that is impossible," the woman repeated firmly. She looked frazzled and tired, but a spark of determination was in her eyes as she stood solidly between the shouting man and entrance into the gallery.

"Do you know who I am?" the man demanded.

"I know exactly who you are!" the woman spat back. "You're David Rossi, an FBI agent and friend to that-, that-, that man they suspect killed Beth! Now if you think you're going to save your friend's guilty hide by trying to dig up dirt on Beth, you have another thing coming to you! Beth was a lovely woman and she's never hurt a fly in her life. It's that Hotchner man she was seeing who's guilty. Now please leave or I will call the police!"

Rossi threw her a disgusted and enraged look. "This isn't over! Aaron Hotchner never laid a finger on her and I'll prove it!" He stomped out of the gallery, pushing past the young, thin man who had been standing behind him, waiting to enter the gallery.

"Wow, that was intense," the young man said. "Are you okay?" he asked the woman who had been arguing with Rossi.

The older woman sighed and used a hand to brush back her dark hair. Her other hand pushed up her glasses. "I'm fine." She gave the tall man a small smile. "Thank you for asking."

"What was he going on and on about?" the young man asked gently. "I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help overhearing…"

"It'll be all over the news in a few hours if it isn't already," the woman who wore a nametag that said "Erica" continued. "One of our curators, Beth Clemmons, is missing and we just got word they've found her body. She had been dating this FBI agent and they didn't have a good break-up." Erica sniffed in the direction of the door. "That man was a friend of Beth's ex. I'm betting they're closing ranks to protect their own."

"But the FBI doesn't investigate local crimes."

"No, fortunately, DC police are handling it." She lowered her voice. "But there's no doubt in my mind that the boyfriend is guilty. He broke up with her, but the past week, he's been calling Beth a lot. She told me it's because she had found out something about him that had him worried. She started to become a little afraid of him. That he viewed her as some sort of threat to him and maybe he would do something to her."

The young man looked intrigued and shuffled closer towards the woman. "What did she know about him?"

Erica shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I know Beth suspected he had been sleeping with one of his subordinates and that's a big no-no. This guy was so married to his career, something like that could destroy it. A man like that would do anything to protect his job." She sniffled sadly. "Even getting rid of someone he thought was a problem." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and then suddenly realized she had been confiding in a total stranger. "I'm sorry, who did you say you were and why were you here?"

"My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and I actually came to look at the tribal masks exhibit you've just opened up."

An hour later after touring the exhibit and asking a few prepared questions, Reid strolled out of the museum, down two blocks and got into a waiting car.

"About time you showed up," Rossi groused.

"I had to make it look like I was really there for the exhibit," Reid protested as he set his messenger bag down at his feet. "However, the plan did work."

"Usually does. Get 'em rattled and upset and they'll loosen their tongue for the closet sympathetic ear," Rossi replied. "What did you learn?"

"She said that Hotch had been calling Beth frequently the past week because she knew something that would hurt Hotch's career. That he was having an affair with one of his subordinates."

Rossi snorted. "There's so much bullshit in that that I don't know where to start. I can tell you Aaron has not been calling her. She's been calling him."

"Phone records should be able to prove that," Reid agreed as Rossi started up the car.

"We'll need Garcia to check into it."

* * *

Emily let herself into Hotch's apartment with the key she had grabbed from Rossi's. At least one other member of the team had an extra set of keys to another member's place. Hotch had only given a set to Rossi. The man valued his privacy very much. Ironically, so did Emily, but since the Doyle incident, everyone had pretty much insisted they have a key to her new house. Normally, her extra set would be with JJ, but she could see the anxiety in everyone's faces, as though they needed some assurance that they could check up on her at any time. The lingering guilt she still felt for what Doyle put them through had pushed her to hand over keys to everyone on the team though the idea of so many spare sets floating around made her uneasy.

She punched in the security code to deactivate the alarm and made sure the door was firmly closed and locked behind her. Emily walked into the living room and glanced at her surroundings.

Hotch was a notoriously neat man and his apartment, despite having a young child, exhibited this predilection. Of course, it helped that Jack had been gone a week and would still be away for at least another one. Emily suspected as soon as the child had left, Hotch had cleaned up.

Right now though, Hotch's obsessive organization was a benefit as it made it easy to spot if anything was out of place, and so far, nothing appeared to be. Gibbs had not gotten back to her yet, so she had no idea what evidence they might have on Hotch in Beth's disappearance. Emily was going into this blind, but she knew if she could find something that could alibi her Unit Leader for last night, he should be in the clear.

Methodically, she began to search the apartment, rolling her eyes more than once as she came across Hotch's need for organizing everything. Seriously, he alphabetizes his canned goods?

She found nothing out of place in the living areas and only made a cursory inspection of Jack's room. All that remained were Hotch's bedroom with its attached bathroom and the small guest room that doubled as his home office. She hesitated a moment before she went towards the office first.

This too looked undisturbed and exhibited the same neatness as the rest of the apartment. Most of the drawers were kept locked and she assumed they had his files from work. She pulled out one unlocked drawer a little further and noticed in the deep recess in the back hung an assortment of keys on hooks. A glance at the tags showed her they were spare keys: extra set of keys to his car, to his office, and the extra keys to the other team members' homes. Emily paused a moment and examined the neat tags attached to each set of keys. Like Hotch had entrusted him, Rossi had given his spare keys to Hotch as had Morgan, their names clearly written on tags that hung off of the keyrings. Both sets were hanging off their respective hooks, but one hook was conspicuously missing a set of keys.

The keys to her house were gone.

* * *

**A/N 2: Let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hmm, the plot thickens. It's been interesting reading people's guesses. I hope I can keep this twisty and intriguing enough for folks. Thanks for your comments and please keep letting me know what you think as this progresses. I am trying to make this a bit more of a mystery.**

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs paused in the doorway and glanced around the bustling room taking a moment to watch the activity before him. Uniformed and plainclothes detectives hurried about as they dealt with witnesses, suspects and people filing reports. Someone was at every desk and even more people moved about on foot. It was a busy squad room with the phones ringing constantly and the chatter at a controlled din. He caught snippets of conversation as the public demanded the police do something for their various concerns.

"Hey man, the dude pulled a knife on me! I had to defend myself!"

"His name is John Hillary and he's been missing for a week. He works with computers and he never misses work. I know something has happened!"

"What's my tax dollars paying for if you're not looking into this?"

"I told Missy that you can't simply pay for half and walk out!"

"May I help you?"

This last question was directed towards Gibbs and was delivered by a young, uniformed officer. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow taking in his neat, but fairly non-descript appearance. Fed, she mentally pegged him.

Gibbs pulled out his credentials and showed them to the young cop. "I'm looking for Detective Kramer."

The uniformed officer peered suspiciously at Gibbs but gave a sharp nod. "I'll go get him."

Gibbs grunted an acknowledgment and the young woman trotted off. He glanced around the room noting the volume had risen. When Emily came to him asking for help, his first instinct had been to refuse. Aaron Hotchner was not one of his favorite people and hearing the trouble the BAU leader had gotten himself into made Gibbs even warier of getting involved. He suspected there was going to be some serious fallout from this case and he didn't want to get wrapped up in something that was absolutely none of his business. However, one thing stopped him from completely refusing. He didn't want to see Emily get hurt.

Knowing the woman, she was going to get involved with or without his help. At least by being a part of it, Gibbs might be able to minimize the complications. Or at least be there for Emily when the shit hit the fan.

Gibbs had hoped to find the information Emily needed by having McGee look into what DC Metro had, i.e., hack their computers. But when McGee tapped into the DC computer system, he learned the detective in charge was Tom Kramer. Gibbs knew Kramer and he also knew the cop wouldn't input any information on his case until it was nearly complete. A look through the open file on Beth Clemmons showed this to be true. Gibbs got some preliminary information that matched up to the few details Emily had, but he knew he would have to talk to Kramer himself if he really wanted to know what evidence they had against Hotchner.

Not that he minded. Gibbs actually liked Kramer. Smart, solid, honest, he was a good cop with a good brain. But Kramer was a lot like himself, he played his cards very close to the vest. At least Gibbs knew Kramer would do a thorough job and not railroad Hotchner. Even if the evidence looked pretty solid, Kramer would still double-check to make sure Hotchner was the right suspect.

"Agent? This way please."

The young officer was at his elbow and she was gesturing for him to follow her. She took him away from the hustle and bustle of the squad room to a quiet hallway and into a small conference room. The young officer left him and a minute later, Kramer came into the room.

"Gibbs, what brings you around?" Kramer greeted as he shook the NCIS agent's hand.

"Hear you caught a case that involves an FBI agent."

Kramer paused and instantly became wary. "Aaron Hotchner. He a friend of yours?"

"Naw, but I do know him."

Kramer gestured for Gibbs to sit down as he took a seat himself. "Given your tone, doesn't sound like there's much love lost between you two. Tell me about him."

"I don't think he's involved in that woman's disappearance," Gibbs replied as he settled himself into his chair. "Hotchner is a straight arrow."

"Straight arrow, hmmm." Kramer tapped fingers on the table top. "Co-workers said he was diddling a subordinate."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "I really doubt it."

"Co-worker said Clemmons confided in her that was what was happening and why he broke up with her." Kramer gazed intently at the NCIS agent. "Hotchner has some women on his team I understand."

It was Gibbs' turn to be wary. He knew it wasn't Emily and he had his doubts Hotchner actually was sleeping with another agent, but he wondered if the FBI man may have given the Stalker that as an excuse to get her off his back. It didn't sound like something Hotchner would do, but if he was trying to get rid of a persistent woman, he may have thought she'd grow uninterested if he was attached to someone else. However, if he did say that, anyone familiar with the BAU would probably zero in on Emily as the likely candidate considering the other women were attached. "Don't think that was happening between Hotchner and anyone on his team."

"Hear he has some very attractive women on his team," Kramer continued, earning a sharp look from Gibbs. Kramer has done a lot of digging so far. "Intense work they do too. Sometimes things happen."

"Not between Hotchner and anyone on his team," Gibbs repeated firmly.

Kramer was watching him with intense interest, the wheels turning in his head. Finally he said, "So, if you're not friends with Hotchner, why are you doing this? Or should I say, for whom?"

Gibbs kept his face blank and only said, "Just curious."

Kramer regarded him silently before he said, "Come on, Gibbs, you don't do anything without a reason. Or you do it for someone." He tilted his head to the side again, trying to read Gibbs' poker face. "Must be a helluva woman to have you two trying hard to keep her name out of things."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't know if this was a stab in the dark by Kramer or if he knew something. "What did Hotchner say?" His voice was just a hair too sharp and he tipped his hand, indicating that there was someone else involved in some way, though, Gibbs suspected Kramer was already far down that path.

"Agent Hotchner doesn't seem to remember much about last night. However, we have a video of him going into the victim's apartment and a body that's been identified as Beth Clemmons."

Gibbs suppressed a sigh. "So you're charging him." Kramer hesitated, causing Gibbs to raise an eyebrow. "What? You're not charging him?"

"He's a person of interest," Kramer confirmed. "But I'd like to get a more solid case against him with some additional evidence. We haven't finished processing everything yet."

"So, he's free to go?" Gibbs asked as he stood.

Kramer regarded him steadily. "He is. Will you be taking him out of here?"

"Not going to be responsible for him," Gibbs replied as they left the room. "But I'll give him a ride. Where is he?"

Kramer nodded at a door at the opposite side of the hall. "He's in there. Go ahead and tell him he's free to go." He tilted his head. "You going to stick with this case?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Not my responsibility. He's got his own team for that."

Again, the detective regarded him with those piercing eyes. "Hmmm, yes, and our mysterious woman whose name people wish to keep out of this investigation. You do know I'll figure out who she is."

Gibbs shrugged. "If there is a woman."

"Hotchner doesn't strike me as the type who'd go for a man."

Gibbs did crack a smile at that before he opened the door to the interrogation room Hotch was in.

Kramer left him as Gibbs walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Hotch looked up and did a double take when he saw his visitor.

"Gibbs?"

"Get up, they're releasing you and I guess I'm your ride," Gibbs ordered.

"What are you doing here?" Hotch asked in confusion as he slowly stood.

Gibbs eyed the man closely. He was steady on his feet, but the FBI agent did look paler than Gibbs had remembered. "We'll talk in the car, but they're not charging you. Yet. You are a person of interest to them."

"Not surprising, given what they've told me what they have so far," Hotch replied dryly as he followed Gibbs out of the room.

The two men fell silent as they walked through the halls of the station house and out to Gibbs' car. It wasn't until they had pulled out of the parking lot that Hotch turned to the NCIS agent and asked. "Okay, why are you here?"

"Emily sent me," Gibbs replied simply. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hotch's features soften slightly at the mention of the woman's name. Once again, he could only think for someone so smart, Hotchner was a world class dumbass. "You're team is locked out of this completely. They've been put on leave and have no access to anything. Emily knew I could get info from Metro." He glanced over at the other man. "I didn't think I'd be picking you up."

"So where are we going?" Hotch asked.

"Emily said they're meeting at your teammate's house. Rossi's. I'm dropping you off there." He glanced over at Hotch. "It's not looking good for you so far. What's this about you not remembering anything?"

Hotch grunted. "Just exactly that. I don't remember much about anything last night. They've got video of me going into Beth's apartment, but I have no recollection of that at all. I've been avoiding her for the past few weeks so I don't know why I would be going over to her place."

"You think you were drugged?"

"Well, I'm not prone to blackouts and I don't have a bump or wounds on my head, so that's the only other explanation I can think of," Hotch replied wryly. "Question is who would drug me? Beth would be the logical choice, but they positively identified her body through dental records."

"Dental records?" Gibbs asked, a memory of a past case leaping to mind.

"Body found in her burning car. They only could use dental records."

"Dental records aren't always correct." He explained to Hotch the case where the suspect had removed all of his teeth in order to get around the identification via dental records.

Hotch stared at him in disbelief. "I doubt Beth had all her teeth pulled out."

"No, but nowadays everything is electronic and electronic records can be switched around," Gibbs replied. Something niggled at the back of his brain. Computers. A missing person's report he had overheard in the stationhouse.

"But why?" Hotch mused. "Why do all this?"

Gibbs snorted in disbelief. "Because she's a whack job." He shot Hotch an annoyed glare. "For a profiler, you sure do miss a lot of things right in front of you. Em told me how you two met. She was stalking you! Then you break it off, for someone like that, it's like flipping their crazy switch."

Hotch felt himself flushing, partly from anger but also embarrassment. He should have known better, but he had fallen like a fool for Beth's advances. "I wasn't aware that Prentiss thought it was her place to discuss my personal life with you," he said in frigid tones.

"Get that stick out of your ass, Hotchner," Gibbs growled. "And don't get all over Em's case. I asked her about it." He gave Hotch a hard look. "I guess I can't really get all over your case either. Not like we haven't all made mistakes in picking someone to be involved with. Hell, I married badly three times."

"I don't like my personal life being a topic for gossip."

"Get over it. Everyone's life is fodder for gossip. That's just human nature. Thought you as a profiler would know that."

They were silent for a few more minutes as Gibbs continued to drive to Rossi's, but the NCIS man had one more question for Hotch.

"Kramer said that your girlfriend's thought you were screwing someone on your team. That true?"

"What? No, of course not!" Hotch huffed out.

"Why did she say that then? You give her a reason to think you were?"

Hotch sighed. "No. Beth had a hard time grasping how close I am to my team. We're family. You get that, but she didn't. There was also one or two times where she found me conversing with Prentiss and she jumped to the wrong conclusions because Emily was the only single female on the team and because she's so beautiful."

Gibbs raised his eyebrow at that last part and looked over at Hotch who seemed unaware that he had just described his subordinate as "beautiful".

"Kramer is a good cop. He's honest, thorough and he won't jump to conclusions. But he's like a dog with a bone once he gets something between his teeth. He keeps asking about you and another woman. He's not going to let that one go." He sent a hard look to Hotch. "I don't want to see Emily dragged into this mess."

Hotch sent the NCIS agent an equally hard look. He had yet to truly figure out what Prentiss' relationship with Gibbs was. He didn't think they were lovers, but she was very fond of the man and Gibbs was ferociously protective of her. But for Gibbs to think he would drag Emily into this mess with Beth was insulting on every level.

"I have not mentioned Prentiss to the police nor do I intend to," Hotch said in a cold voice.

"Kramer will find out about her, about everyone on your team. Won't take him long to figure out that it was probably Emily that had Beth all worked up," Gibbs grunted. He pulled up to Rossi's house and turned off the engine. He sent Hotch another hard look. "I did this as a favor to Emily, Hotchner, but if it came down to protecting her or you, I'm picking Emily."

Hotch steadily returned the look and said in a quiet, even tone. "If it comes down to that, I'm choosing to protect her too."

* * *

**A/N 2: For those who don't know, I wrote a CM/NCIS cross-over and while this isn't exactly a sequel or in the same timeline as that story, the relationships are the same in that Emily is very good friends with the NCIS crew and Gibbs is extremely fond of her, he regards her as family, but Hotch and Gibbs do not get along at all. It's partially because it's two very alpha males and partially because of Emily. And no, Gibbs does not have romantic designs on her, but Hotch doesn't know that for certain. Gibbs is just very protective and Gibbs-like towards her.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Today we come to a very sad day, the day the divine Paget Brewster will be leaving Criminal Minds. Given how badly season 7 has gone, I can't say I blame her. The quality is just not there anymore. I wish Paget all the luck in the world and I'll definitely be checking out any new projects she has. And for those asking, yep, I'll continue writing, but in my writing world, I won't be going beyond season 7. Hope you enjoy this part.**

* * *

Just as Hotch and Gibbs were getting out of the car, two other cars pulled up. Rossi, Reid, Morgan and JJ looked at the two men in surprise and suddenly a barrage of questions and exclamations fell from their lips.

"Hotch!"

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Why is Gibbs with you?"

Hotch held up his hand to quiet them. "They haven't charged me so they had to let me go, but I get the feeling Detective Kramer thinks it's only a matter of time. Gibbs was down at the station poking around and gave me a lift."

Rossi nodded knowingly. "Emily's contact."

Gibbs merely grunted an affirmation. Suddenly, the air thickened with tension as NCIS and FBI faced off. While Gibbs and his team's relationship with Emily was very strong and friendly, the same could not be said for the others in the BAU. Their introduction to each other had been rocky and while there had been a healthy amount of professional respect between the two groups that was lost when Doyle came back into the picture. Gibbs had blamed Hotch and the rest of the team for failing to protect Emily. That anger was only magnified towards Hotch and JJ when he found out that they had faked Emily's death and told no one, including him. While Gibbs would be civil to Hotch because he was doing Emily a favor, he hadn't planned on dealing with the rest of them and ill will between the agents immediately enveloped the group.

"Well, let's go inside," Dave continued accurately reading the scowls on several people's faces. "We can pool our information."

"Where's Emily?" Gibbs asked sharply. "Inside?"

"No, I called her about ten minutes ago and she said she was on her way here. Should be here in a few minutes," Morgan replied. He gazed warily at Gibbs. Morgan didn't particularly care for the other man and objected to the NCIS agent blaming him and the rest of his teammates for the Doyle situation. But in his more honest moments, Morgan had wondered if Gibbs might not be right and that they did bear a lot of the blame for how things turned out.

Gibbs grunted in annoyance. All he wanted was a few minutes of Emily's time to warn her about what to expect in this case and a potential lead, but it would look like he would have to wait around for her to show up. Reluctantly, he followed the BAU team into the mansion.

Garcia looked up with bleary eyes that had been staring non-stop at the computer screen as she scrolled through hundreds of websites and databases for information on Beth Clemmons. When she saw Gibbs, she let out a small squeak of surprise. The NCIS man intimidated and terrified the tech analyst and she usually became a bundle of nerves around him.

"Agent Gibbs! Why are you here?" she asked nervously.

"Just doing Emily a favor," he sighed. While he remained silent, the BAU team could feel the disdain drip off of him. In Gibbs' black and white mind, you do what you needed to do to protect your family and for a group of profilers, they failed miserably in seeing the signs that Emily was in distress last year or if they saw them, they ignored them. For that, Gibbs could not forgive nor forget. Had Emily not avoided him in those months, he would have noticed something and he would have dragged it out of her. While he wasn't happy she didn't come to him either, he understood why she couldn't and why she hid everything from him.

But these people who saw her every day, who claimed to care for her and did nothing until it was too late, they got no forgiveness from him. They hadn't protected someone they claimed to be their own, to be family. That was unacceptable in Gibbs' eyes. One thing though that Leroy Jethro Gibbs did very well, he knew how to hang onto a grudge, and he had a big one against Hotchner and his team.

Silence stretched out to an awkward point in the room, causing Rossi to clap his hands together and say in a far too cheerful and loud voice, "I think we all need to have some lunch. JJ and Reid, why don't you two help me out in the kitchen? I'm sure Aaron can use some food."

"Actually, I'm not that hungry." The thought of food made him a bit queasy and his already wan pallor paled a few shades more.

Gibbs watched him sharply and then asked. "You pull a sample yet?"

Hotch shook his head as he sat gingerly down. "No, it didn't occur to me until later and by then I was at the police station. If something like GHB was used, it's probably metastized."

"Still wouldn't hurt to be sure." Gibbs glanced around and picked up a small jar on an end table. He took off the lid and handed it to Hotch. "Here use this."

Rossi darted forward and snatched the jar out of the NCIS man's hand. "You are not peeing into that. It's worth $5,000." He glared at Gibbs and then turned to Hotch. "You think you were drugged?"

"I can't remember anything about last night," Hotch replied grimly. "Plus I woke up feeling sick as a dog. I'm still not feeling that well."

"Should we call a doctor?" Reid asked.

Gibbs was already on his phone. "Yeah, Duck, I need you to come out to Bethesda. Patient needs to see you and he's a live one, so bring your medical kit." He gave Dr. Mallard the address. "He'll be here in twenty minutes," he informed them after disconnecting the call.

"Who do you think may have drugged you?" JJ asked.

Gibbs and Hotch exchanged looks. The NCIS man shrugged, indicating this was Hotch's situation to explain.

"It's possible Beth might not be dead," Hotch finally said. He explained what he and Gibbs had discussed on the ride over.

Rossi nodded his head gently. "If she was feeling resentful and wanted to hurt you, she could have set up this elaborate scheme. She would be a logical choice as to who would be behind this. But are we certain that isn't her body at the morgue?"

"Dr. Mallard is a good friend of the DC ME," Gibbs stated. "I'll ask him to nose around."

Suddenly, they could hear someone at the front door and a second later, Prentiss appeared in the doorway into the living room. She paused, blinking in surprise when she saw Hotch. While she anticipated Gibbs to be there because his car was parked out front, she didn't think he would be bringing her supervisor with him.

"They haven't charged you yet?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Nice to see you too, Prentiss," Hotch replied in a dry tone. "No, they haven't charged me yet, but they're definitely building a case against me."

She seemed to accept this, a distracted look in her eye as she shrugged off her leather jacket. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by either Gibbs or Hotch. The two men shared a look with each other. While not friends, the one thing they did have in common was their concern over the beautiful brunette.

As the others reported what they had found, Hotch kept glancing over at Emily and he could see Gibbs doing the same. With each new bit of information, they could see her try to contain her agitation. But neither man could blame her if she did feel some anxiety, especially when JJ reported finding many of the same articles of clothing Emily owned at Beth's apartment.

"So she could have been stalking Emily?" Rossi queried as JJ finished up her report.

"If she thought Emily was a romantic rival for Hotch, she could have very well set out to hurt her," Reid piped in, reminding them of what Beth's co-worker had told him earlier.

"But Emily isn't the one being set up," Morgan pointed out. "Hotch is."

"Depends on who she's trying to punish, me or Emily," Hotch replied.

"But Emily is the competition," Morgan persisted, drawing on what he knew about obsessive love, his specialty. "She would go after Emily first."

"Maybe it's not her who's doing this," Gibbs added his comments.

"So she weirdly tries to copy Emily's wardrobe only to try to get Hotch arrested and put away for murder? How does that make sense?" JJ argued.

"Prentiss," Hotch began, watching Emily start to pick her fingernails. "What is it? What's bothering you?"

Emily jerked to awareness, not realizing she had been such a focus for scrutiny by her supervisor. When she looked around, she saw he hadn't been the only one as she met Gibbs' icy blue gaze.

"I went to your apartment to see if there was anything we could use to establish your whereabouts for last night," she began reluctantly.

At this point, the rest could see something was troubling her. They exchanged glances with each other. What did she find?

"Go on, Emily," Rossi said in a quiet tone.

She took a deep steadying breath. "I didn't find anything that would help you, Hotch," she said with an apologetic glance at him. She paused and started to pick at her nails again. Suddenly, a large hand covered hers, stopping her movements. She looked up in surprise, not realizing Gibbs had moved to sit next to her on the couch. He gazed at her with kind eyes and gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

Hotch threw the other man a frown, a flicker of irritation on his face, but he said nothing as Gibbs had stopped Emily from tearing her nails out.

"But I did notice that my spare set of house keys were missing," she said in a rush.

None of them were expecting that and they looked at her in surprise.

"The keys are missing?" Garcia repeated. "Why is that important?"

"Well, we know now how Beth bought all those dupes of Emily's clothes," JJ said in a grim tone. "She probably took the keys and broke into Em's house to see what was in her closet."

Gibbs was watching Emily closely. "What else?" he asked in a quiet tone. "There's something else."

Prentiss bit her lip and sighed. "After checking out Hotch's place I went to mine. I found someone had set up surveillance equipment, cameras in my apartment." She couldn't help the small shudder going through her as an overwhelming feeling of being violated swept over her. "My living room, the kitchen, my bedroom…"

Everyone was furious at this new development, none moreso than Gibbs and Hotch. The former sent the FBI team leader a coldly furious look even as he gently squeezed Emily's hands in reassurance.

Hotch closed his eyes at the news and swallowed hard. Beth mad at him and striking out at him was one thing, but to target one of his team, to target Emily…He did this. He brought that woman into their lives and possibly put his family in danger. How could he not see how dangerous Beth really was? He was a profiler for God's sakes!

"Did you touch the cameras?" Rossi asked.

Emily shook her head. "I couldn't get a good look on them, but in case they were on some wireless transmission system, which they likely are, I thought maybe Garcia could try to do a back-trace on them."

"Smart girl," Rossi murmured approvingly. He looked over at Garcia. "Is that something you can do?"

Garcia nodded, shooting a sympathetic and worried look at Emily. "If it's on some wireless system, I'll find out who's at the other end, but I'll need to go there to do so."

Emily snorted. "Seems like my house is Grand Central anyway." She handed Garcia her house key.

"I'll take you over there, Baby Girl," Morgan volunteered. Garcia gathered up her gear and with Derek trailing after her, hurried from the house.

"So, if Beth did set this up," Rossi continued. "Then we know Emily is involved in some way with her plans."

"Because she thinks there's something going on between Hotch and Prentiss," JJ finished. She looked thoughtfully at the brunette pair. Emily was staring at her hands, Gibbs one hand still covering them as Hotch looked on with a strange mixture of regret, anger and sadness on his face. The blonde wondered if Morgan's assessment of her friends' relationship might have more merit to it than she initially gave it.

"What's her end game then?" Hotch mused. "Set me up for her "death", but where does Emily come into it?"

"For these types of cases of obsession, the perceived rival would be killed first," Reid put in. "So that it would be likely that Emily's death would figure into her plans."

"Thanks a lot Reid," Emily murmured in annoyance.

"Hey," Gibbs said quietly to her. "Look at me, no one is going to get near you. I promise you."

She smiled wanly at the NCIS agent as Hotch looked at them in irritation, Rossi was amused and Reid and JJ merely sat there uncomfortably.

"I think we can make certain Agent Prentiss is safe," Hotch replied in a cool voice.

Gibbs turned his own cold eyes towards the BAU leader. "Didn't do so great last time."

Hotch and the rest of his team immediately bristled at the implication and Emily hastily intervened. "I'll be fine. I think I can take whatever Beth might have planned."

"If it's her," Gibbs continued. He turned his attention back to Emily. "We don't if she's actually the one behind this."

"But all evidence poinst to her planning this," JJ protested. "Plus you're the one who came up with the switched dental records idea."

"But it doesn't mean that's what happened," Gibbs stressed.

"He's right," Rossi mused. "We can't be closed to anything at this point. We don't know enough. We have to operate on the assumption that Beth was in that car."

JJ looked unconvinced, but nodded reluctantly.

"Dr. Mallard is friends with the DC ME. I'll ask him to look into the autopsy. Make certain the body was identified right," Gibbs offered. "In the meantime, you can't go back to your place. You're staying with me." It wasn't an offer.

And Hotch wasn't pleased by Gibbs' high handedness. "I don't think that's necessary."

"No?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Remembered what happened the last time your team ignored a threat to Emily's safety?"

"Gibbs, stop it," Emily murmured, not wanting to bring up the Doyle incident again for a multitude of reasons. "You know it wasn't as clear cut as that."

"And besides, Emily doesn't need to go to your place, Gibbs, she'll be staying here," Rossi replied in an easy tone. Like Emily, he was hoping to defuse the situation. They needed Gibbs to help them out in the investigation. The man had access to resources that they didn't at this point. But it was obvious Hotch would rather chew glass than put up with the other man's accusations.

"Emily?" Gibbs asked. "Where do you want to stay?"

She bit her lip. "I need to stay close to the investigation, so I think it's best to be here working on it." She looked pleadingly at Gibbs. She was well aware of how he felt towards her team and no matter what she said, he wouldn't budge from that opinion. Any attempts to explain that she was to blame for Hotch and the others not knowing about Doyle fell on deaf ears. Gibbs' mind was made up and nothing would change it. But right now, she was silently asking him not to go there, not with this potential murder charge hanging over Hotch's head.

The NCIS agent looked into her wide, dark eyes, pleading for him to back off on her team and he reluctantly acquiesced, for now. His anger at Hotchner was boiling at an all time high. Yet again, the dumbass had done something that had dangerous consequences for Emily. His psycho girlfriend had targeted the brunette, violated her home and her privacy and he, not a profiler, could see how much that had shaken the usually unflappable Prentiss. He would have it out with Hotchner later when Emily wasn't around.

Gibbs nodded sharply and Rossi turned his attention towards Aaron. He gazed at the younger man who didn't seem ready to back down from the potential scuffle with Gibbs. Rossi had never seen anyone get under his old friend's skin as quickly and as effectively as the NCIS agent. He caught Hotch's eye and gave him a pointed look. Down boy, Rossi tried to communicate silently and from the stubborn expression on younger man's face, Dave knew the other man got the message. Reluctantly, Hotch moved slightly back into the chair he had been sitting in, no longer leaning forward, ready to engage Gibbs.

Reid had been watching the interplay between the two team leaders with growing fascination. Like JJ, he felt a little intimidated by the NCIS man. Gibbs was rude and abrupt, but he was that way to pretty much everyone. There was never any meanness from the man. So while Reid couldn't say he liked Gibbs, the young genius did respect him. He was a good investigator, conscientious, driven and protective. Reid knew a lot of the man's hostility towards the BAU team stemmed from his belief that they had failed to protect Emily from Doyle. How could Reid be mad at the other man for that when he himself felt the same?

The doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence that hung in the room and JJ murmured that she would answer the door. A few moments later she came back with Dr. Donald Mallard in tow.

"Hello? What did I miss?" the cheerful man inquired as looked around the room curiously.

* * *

**A/N 2: You can agree with me or not, but I do love writing Gibbs/Hotch, just because I really don't think those two would like each other. Both are too alpha (well, pre-Beth Hotch is alpha, I'm not quite sure what they've done with him in Season 7), but I do think on some level, they would grudgingly respect each other.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"You okay?"

Emily turned her head as Gibbs sat down next to her on the couch. Rossi, JJ and Reid were in the kitchen preparing lunch and Ducky had taken Hotch upstairs to examine the younger man.

She shot the NCIS agent a wry smile. "You mean aside from finding out that my boss' ex-girlfriend is a potential psychotic stalker who may believe I've been carrying on an affair with the object of her obsession? And to top off, she may have stolen my house keys and set up cameras to watch my every move? Oh, other than that, I'm great."

Gibbs didn't return her feeble smile. He was gazing at her with that worried look that she hated seeing because she knew what was going to come next.

"I don't think you should be involved in this case," Gibbs said firmly. "If you're out there investigating, interviewing people, you're just making yourself a bigger target for Beth or whoever might be involved."

"You think it's someone else other than Beth?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I don't think we've got enough information to say it is Beth. Rule #3."

"Don't believe what you're told, double check?"

"Well, the second part definitely applies, as does Rule #10, Never get personally involved in a case."

Emily sighed. "That can't really be helped here, can it? We're all drawn into it, whether we want to be or not. I didn't ask for Beth to home in on me as competition. I mean, I'm not even that! Hotch and I are just friends."

Gibbs merely grunted, causing Emily to shoot him a suspicious look. "What?"

"Nothing," he muttered under his breath. If Emily was going to continue to deny the existing mutual attraction between herself and Hotchner, Gibbs wasn't about to correct her. He knew she could do so much better than her supervisor. Gibbs preferred her to be with someone other than Hotchner. In the NCIS agent's eyes, Hotch could not protect Emily and ensure her safety. Doyle was proof of that.

"If it's not Beth though," Emily was musing. "Who else could it be? Who would gain from some scheme like this? Framing Hotch for a murder?"

"Beth could be an accomplice. A pawn someone used," Gibbs added. "We won't know until Ducky talks to the ME and hopefully gets a chance to do his own exam."

She turned to regard him thoughtfully. "And how is he going to do that? It's not an NCIS case."

"We'll figure out a way."

"I thought you didn't want to get involved beyond just talking to the lead detective? You've done that already."

"Yeah, well, that was before I found out you could be targeted," Gibbs replied in a dark tone.

Emily's gazed softened. "Gibbs, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl who can take care of herself."

"Yeah, I know that, but you aren't going to be able to figure this out without me. The Bureau has cut you guys off. You'll need my resources."

"How are you going to convince Vance that this case is in NCIS' interest to look into?"

"You just leave that to me. Besides Ducky looking into Beth's autopsy, I'll have Abby run whatever he gets from Hotchner. McGee can do some of that computer stuff while Garcia is looking into the webcams at your house." With the mention of the cameras, Gibbs face darkened again. "I want you to promise me something. You don't go anywhere alone. I don't doubt you can take this psycho, but you don't know what she has planned or what she's capable of. You guys are flying blind in this and until you figure out what she might do, you stick with someone at all times."

"Yes sir," she said, giving him a mock salute.

He frowned at her. "I'm serious."

Emily's eyes softened and she gave him a small grin. "I know. I promise I'll be careful." Seeing Gibbs' annoyed look, she hastily added, " And not go anywhere alone."

"I'll make sure of that," Hotch said as he came back into the room rolling down the sleeve of his shirt. Ducky followed in his wake, medical bag in one hand, his coat in the other.

"Everything check out?" Gibbs asked. His question was addressed to the medical examiner, but his eyes were focused on Hotch.

"Without Ms. Scuitto's expertise, I won't be able to tell what Agent Hotchner may have ingested. I can say that he appears to be in good health, though I wouldn't recommend any strenuous activity for at least 24 hours and do an assessment of his condition then." He put on his coat and placed his hat on his head. "I can stay that I found no injection marks on him so if he was drugged, it was taken orally. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll take these samples I drew to Abby and have her put a rush on them."

"Thanks, Ducky," Emily smiled and hugged the older man whom she had always found irresistibly adorable.

The doctor blushed a sweet shade of pink. "I am always happy to be of service to a lovely lady," he said in his most gallant tone.

It would have been sexist coming from any other man, but Ducky's old-fashioned sense of honor and gallantry never failed to make Emily feel special.

Hotch was simply feeling annoyed. He should be grateful that the NCIS men were helping him in his case, but he knew they weren't doing it for him. All this was for Emily. It shouldn't matter, the results were the same, but Hotch did not like being indebted to anyone, least of all Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And that Emily had to go to this man to get help for him, Hotch, it simply didn't sit well with him at all.

"Thank you both so much for your help," Emily said in a soft voice.

He didn't know why, but hearing Emily thank Gibbs and Mallard in that gentle tone he so rarely heard coming from her increased his irritation. "Yes, well, thank you both. But I think it's time we start examining what we've gathered so far and start building a profile on Beth. We have work to do, Prentiss." Hotch wanted to cringe at his words and tone. He sounded rude and ungrateful not only towards the NCIS people, but to Emily as well.

Emily frowned at Hotch as Ducky shifted uncomfortably on his feet and Gibbs simply glared at the other man. The former Marine simply leaned over, kissed Emily on the cheek and murmured, "I'll call you later. Remember what you promised and know my offer still stands. You can always stay at my place."

She gave him a quick smile and nodded her head. After they were gone, Emily whirled on Hotch. "What was that about?" she demanded.

He gazed coolly back at her, but cringed inwardly when he heard his flat voice say to her, "Time is of the essence of, Prentiss. I would prefer not to have this cloud of suspicion hanging over me."

"I understand that, but those men are generously offering us the means to help remove this 'cloud of suspicion'. They don't have to do this. The least you can do is be a bit more gracious for the help they're providing you."

"You mean you," he bit out.

"I only asked them for help but they're giving it to you," she pointed out. She huffed out an annoyed breath. She didn't have time for Hotch and his problems with Gibbs. NCIS was giving them what they needed to prove his innocence. The least he could do was be gracious about it.

"Gibbs leave?" Rossi asked as he came back into the living room bearing a large platter that had an assortment of sandwiches. JJ followed with a salad and Reid carried plates and utensils.

"He wanted to get things moving on his end," Emily explained with a look at Hotch.

"So here's the information Garcia has gathered so far on Beth," JJ began as they sat around the coffee table eating their lunch. The tech analyst had informed the blonde about the information she had stored on a flash drive she was leaving behind. "She's been working at the Lingerhoff for about three years. Before that she was in Chicago for about six years. She did however, grow up in this area, Maryland in fact. Went to University of Maryland. Garcia didn't have access to police records but she found two odd things. When Beth was at the University of Maryland, her roommate, Cassie Burkhart committed suicide in their junior year. Garcia did a search on Facebook and came up with this." They had hooked up Emily's laptop to Rossi's big screen TV so they all could see everything on the computer. "This Facebook page belongs to Cassie Burkhart's sister, Rachel."

"I'm still not convinced Cassie committed suicide. It makes no sense. She was happy and loving life. She was getting good grades and completely in love with Mark, her boyfriend at the time. It's the anniversary of her death, but no one will ever convince me she killed herself." Emily read aloud. She raised an eyebrow at JJ. "She doesn't mention Beth."

"No, but Beth is the one who found Cassie," JJ replied as she pulled up an old newspaper article. 'Co-ed Tragedy' the headline read. The article went on to mention how Cassie Burkhart's roommate, Beth Clemmons found the young woman dead. Beth was interviewed and talked about how Cassie had been upset and disturbed over the last few days.

"So there were two different stories being given, one by Beth and one by the family," Rossi mused.

"Just the sister, Rachel. Apparently, Cassie wasn't close to her parents, but she was to her sister who was ten years younger, eleven at the time."

"And less attention probably would have been paid to an eleven year when trying to establish someone's state of mind," Hotch mused. "What else did Garcia find?"

"This." JJ pulled up another Facebook page, this time belonging to a man named Richard Martin. A handsome man with golden blond hair, a dazzling smile and the face that actors and news anchors would kill for, Richard Martin was also dead. "Richard Martin died five years ago and his family have kept his page up as a living memorial to him. Which also means they've kept his old pictures and entries. Look at the ones eight months before his death." She clicked on a photo and a familiar face appeared.

"That's Beth," Reid said of the woman who stood next to Martin.

"Yep, and look at the entry for that picture, 'Had a great time with Beth at the music festival today even though we had one of those crazy summer showers.' For the next few months everything seems to be going okay until this entry three months before his death. 'Crazy chicks are the worst thing to deal with! Why can't some of them get it through their heads it's over?' He makes a few more entries talking about some 'crazy woman' though he never names her. Then he starts to write about another woman, Mary Logan, whom he met at work. He's complimentary of her and mentions the 'crazy woman' less and less. And then he's killed in a car crash. Garcia pulled up the newspaper write-ups."

"Richard Martin, 40, and Mary Logan, 32, killed in a crash early this morning as their car rolled off the road and caught fire. Death seems to follow Beth around," Rossi mused. He glanced over at Hotch. "The Martin situation seems to mirror your relationship with Beth, or at least in her mind it might."

Hotch stared grimly at the screen. How could he have missed all of this? It's because he was so flattered that a woman would have gone out of her way to try to date him that he had let his guard down. And now, Emily has been drawn into the mess that he could have avoided if he had shown an ounce of sense.

Well, he would have to try to make this up to Emily later when things were resolved. For now, he would personally make sure nothing happened to her.

"JJ, with Garcia still tied up, you'll need to keep digging. Also try tapping some of your media resources, law enforcement connections you made when you were media liaison. Rossi and Reid, follow up with the folks in Chicago. See if you can find out anything more about the Martin/Logan case. Emily and I will talk to Rachel Burkhart."

* * *

"I'll need to get closer but if the creep is monitoring the camera feed, they'll see me in Em's apartment," Garcia said to Morgan.

"How close will you need to be to figure out if there's a live feed going on and to trace it?"

"If I had our usual surveillance van with all the bells and whistles I can do it from the street, but with my laptop, I'll need to at least be within 20 or 30 feet of one of the cameras."

Morgan thought a moment and then winked at the tech analyst. "I've got an idea."

"Oh! Agent Morgan!" Emily's elderly neighbor, Mrs. Mundy said in a delighted tone after she answered the knock on her front door. "How are you, young man?"

"I'm doing well, Mrs. Mundy," he said with a charming smile and a hug for the birdlike woman. He had met the woman several times and she had taken an immediate shine to the handsome man. "But I need your help."

"Me?" she queried. "Oh dear, Emily isn't in trouble, is she? I thought I heard her go into her house earlier today, but I didn't see her."

"Emily is having some wireless problems but because of the nature of our work, she can't just call up AT&T. So one of our tech analyst from the Bureau is trying to figure out the issue." He pulled Garcia who had been lurking off to the side, into the doorway to stand next to him.

"Hi?" Garcia waved her hand weakly.

Mrs. Mundy peered at her. "Oh yes, I think I've seen you here before." She looked at both of them, confusion in her face. "But I don't understand how I can help."

"Well, you see ma'am, we can't seem to find the problem in Emily's house, so Garcia here believes it could be a connector problem with the DGX box which from the schematics is located right by your East wall. It could be the LGT convenor or the megatron box. Garcia is wondering if she could spend some time here tracking down the issue?"

Both Garcia and Mrs. Mundy stared back at Derek blankly. He was spouting gibberish but it had the desired effect. It sounded impressive and convincing enough to Mrs. Mundy who agreed. She did give Morgan and Garcia an odd look when the latter said she needed to be on the second floor.

"So there's less interference to the signal," the tech analyst tried to explain lamely.

Mrs. Mundy merely shook her head and led the way. Morgan steered them to the guest bedroom where he judged was directly opposite Emily's bedroom. Given how closely the brownstones were located, they were well within the range Garcia required to see if the cameras were still transmitting and to where and whom.

"Is there anything I can get you? I was just about to have some lunch," Mrs. Mundy asked as Garcia and Morgan began to set things up.

"Actually, I'll go do down and help you, Mrs. Mundy," Morgan said smoothly, giving Garcia a look that clearly said he would preoccupy the old lady while Garcia worked. He turned a full watt smile on the older woman who blushed and looked flustered as the handsome man escorted her downstairs.

Garcia shook her head, marveling at the power of her Chocolate Adonis as she began to set up her equipment. She was going to find the creep who had been spying on Emily if it was the last thing she ever did!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: My apologies on how slow I've been updating my stories. I've been really busy and not particularly happy with the show itself. Most of you probably have heard that Jeanne Tripplehorn is the new profiler on the show and while I have nothing against the actress, she's not going to get me to tune in and without Paget Brewster there, Criminal Minds has fallen off of my "what to watch list" for the week. Maybe I'll tune in for an episode, but it's doubtful. However, I will still continue my stories, but I'm basically stopping with the Season 7 timeline and anything past it simply does not exist for me. I also did not expect the NCIS crew to be so prominently featured in this story, but Gibbs and Company have just been so insistent! I hope you enjoy and if you have a chance let me know what you think. I am trying to make this a bit of a mystery/case fic but with a good dash of romance in it as well.**

* * *

"I put your go bag in the guest room in the back," Rossi told Hotch as he tossed his friend an extra set of house keys. They'd agreed that it would be best for Hotch to stay at Rossi's house as well.

"When is your flight to Chicago?" Hotch asked as he pocketed the keys.

"In about ninety minutes so Reid and I have to go now," Rossi replied. "When are you and Prentiss talking to Rachel Burkhart?"

"Prentiss is trying to track her down now, but we probably won't visit her until tomorrow when I'm feeling more like myself." Hotch cursed the weakness he was feeling in his body, the effects of whatever he might have been dosed with. If only he could remember what happened to him last night!

Rossi gazed sympathetically at the younger man. "Just rest up, but if you don't feel any better or feel worse, get to the hospital. We can't be sure what Beth might have given you."

"Are we even sure this is all Beth?" Hotch asked Rossi. He sat slowly down. "I know everything seems to point to her, but what if it's someone else?"

"She's all we have to go on now and until Dr. Mallard can confirm that is Beth Clemmons in the morgue, I'm putting my money on her being behind all this," Rossi stated grimly. His eyes softened when he took in Hotch's brooding countenance. "Aaron, none of this is your fault," he said gently, correctly reading the younger man's body language. "You couldn't have known she would turn out to be unstable."

"But I should have," Hotch cried out in exasperation. He flopped back more deeply into the couch. "I'm a profiler, Dave! I should have seen the signs!"

"You saw them, but you didn't know how serious they were," Dave responded in a firm tone. "Look, you knew enough to break it off. You just didn't realize she would spin so out of control."

"And now Emily is caught up in this mess," was Hotch's gloomy reply.

"Emily is and will be fine. She's a big girl and she understands this is nothing you had any control over."

"That's not true. I could have not been a complete idiot and realized that any woman who knew my training routine so well was a potential danger."

"Then you might as well be pissed off at me too. You told me about that and I still encouraged you to pursue a relationship."

"I make my own decisions, Dave." Hotch sighed. "No, this is completely my mess. None of you should be dragged into it."

"It's what families are for," Dave replied in a comforting voice. "We watch each others' backs, celebrate our victories and take our lumps together."

"I just wish there were more victories than lumps," Aaron noted wryly.

"Well, maybe we're due for some victories." Rossi looked up as he heard a noise and Reid and Emily came into the room. JJ had left earlier to work from home tapping her contacts for any useful information. "All set?" Dave asked Spencer.

Reid nodded and held up his go bag. They were taking a late flight out and would need to stay at least one night in Chicago. "Hopefully Richard Martin and Mary Logan's families will have information for us."

"We shouldn't be gone more than a day," Rossi continued as Hotch and Emily walked the other two agents to Rossi's car.

"Be careful," Hotch warned them.

"You two as well," Rossi returned. He gave them a significant look. "Whether Beth is behind this or not, we know there's someone out there who has it in for you. Keep your eyes open, both of you."

"Aye, aye," Emily gave him a mock salute.

"No smartass comments," Rossi reprimanded her as Hotch frowned at her flippant attitude.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Hotch replied in a serious tone. Emily huffed out an annoyed breath and rolled her eyes at this.

Rossi made some type of grumbling noise as Reid gave Emily a small grin. She and Hotch watched the two men drive away until the car disappeared from sight as it rounded a corner.

Back inside, Emily fired up Garcia's laptop once more and began a search for Rachel Burkhart. Curious, Hotch sat down next to her to look over her shoulder. Like the rest of the team, Prentiss typically left all the computer research to Garcia. He had never seen her do this before. However, as he watched her fingers fly over the keyboard and database after database being magically called up, he realized there was still more about Emily he did not know.

"I don't remember computer hacking listed among your skills," Hotch said dryly when he saw she had accessed the Maryland DMV.

"I'm no Garcia, but can get by if necessary," Emily replied absently. "In the CIA when you're out in the field, you're essentially on your own so you'd better have a variety of skills. Found her." She pulled up Rachel Burkhart's information. She wrote down the woman's address and phone number. She looked at Hotch. "Call or surprise her?"

"Surprise. If we call ahead of time she might refuse to talk to us," Hotch noted.

Emily nodded and then took in the tired lines on Hotch's face. "Maybe you should get some rest. It's been a long, trying day for you."

While crawling into bed and going to sleep held an enormous amount of appear to Hotch, now that he was alone with Emily, he had a chance to do what he's wanted to do since he heard Beth had been targeting his colleague.

"Emily, I'm sorry you've been pulled into this entire mess," he apologized in a rueful tone. "I had no idea that Beth would fixate on you. What she did, setting up those cameras in your apartment…I can't begin to apologize for putting you through that."

An uncomfortable look came over her face. Emily wouldn't admit it to anyone, but knowing she had been watched for who knows how long, during her most private and unguarded moments, it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Though a small part of her felt some resentment towards Hotch for this entire situation, she knew he was not to blame and she was not going to burden him with any additional guilt. She merely shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's Beth's doing, not yours."

"But I brought her into our lives," Hotch retorted. He sighed and rubbed his face with a weary hand. "She thought there was something between us."

"Well, she's delusional," the brunette replied promptly. She let out sharp laugh. "I don't think anyone can believe there's something between us."

Her words both surprised and annoyed Hotch. While the rational side of him knew she was likely talking about their subordinate/supervisor relationship and how neither would jeopardize that or their careers, his ego smarted from what could be an insult. Wasn't he attractive to Emily?

"Well, it's not outside of the realm of possibility," he remarked in a low tone.

Hotch wasn't aware of what he was doing, but he was leaning closer towards Emily as he spoke. He may not have been aware, but she certainly was. Emily licked her lips, a nervous tick she had not been able to control. The motion caught his gaze and his eyes flickered towards her mouth.

Feeling uncomfortable and awkward by Hotch's proximity, Emily tried to shift casually away from him. "If she resented the team, she would have focused on one of us, if not all of us. You couldn't have known she would fixate on me."

"I should have recognized the signs sooner. Stopped it sooner."

"And do what? She hadn't broken any laws that you knew of. Being jealous isn't illegal."

"But we would've been on our guard." Hotch reached out to cover her hand with his, needing to provide her with some type of reassurance, no matter how clumsy. His heart gave a curious little leap when he felt the soft, warm skin of her hand under this. "Found those cameras sooner, maybe." Moreso than his current situation, he was troubled most by the invasion of Emily's privacy, that violation. He knew Emily was as private as he was. To have prying eyes invade her sanctuary was close to a physical violation. It infuriated him that he played a part in it in some way, no matter how minor or unwitting.

More and more often, Hotch had felt this overwhelming need to protect Emily. He initially dismissed it as a residual effect of their experience with Doyle and how close he had come to losing her completely when the Irishman almost killed her. However, instead of the feeling diminishing with her return, it seemed to grow stronger and stronger with each passing day. Now hearing this illicit invasion into Emily's life had his instincts on over-drive. Instinctively, his hand tightened on hers, relishing the tactile feel of her skin against his, warm and soft and real. It reassured him that she was still here, that she wasn't far away in Paris, her fate unknown. She looked up into his eyes, startled by the motion and realizing they were still joined together. Simultaneously, they withdrew from each other's grasp, separating their unwitting physical connection. For a few moments, an awkward silence descended upon the couple. Casting about for something to say, Emily finally asked,

"Are you hungry? You ate very little at lunch. I can make something."

Emily had retreated a few steps back, creating more distance between them and he felt the loss of her warmth and presence. He could still feel how her skin pressed against his. Hotch was startled by the impact of the loss and to hide his surprise and discomfort, shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

"Uh, yeah, I could do with something to eat, but I can't let you do all the work. Let me help. I'm pretty good around the kitchen."

Emily nodded and a few minutes later they found themselves pulling together a meal of pasta and salad.

As they did in the field, they worked easily and well together, a simple dance that had each anticipating the needs of the other. He would hand her a wooden spoon before she could form her request. She would point to the colander when he simply said her name. It felt so natural and normal that their earlier discomfort faded away and soon they were back to their easy relationship.

They worked efficiently and quickly and soon they were sitting down to their dinner. Alcohol was out of the question until they knew exactly with what Hotch had been drugged. He however did feel his appetite returning to him and he started to wolf down his food. Emily looked at him with amusement.

"Hey, take it easy there. Don't eat too much or it might come back up on you." She gave him a smile that filled him with warmth. He found himself smiling back at her.

"I guess in deference to Dave's hospitality, I should make sure I don't foul up one of his bathrooms." He did slow down his pace.

It was almost cozy, the two of them eating together and it reminded him of another meal they had shared, at a diner when he demanded she tell him of her bad day. Then Beth had found them, interrupting the rapport he had started to build with Emily. But even that brief interruption didn't prevent them from talking the rest of the night away when he drove her back to her apartment. He had thought Emily would begin to start talking to him, trusting him, but after that night, she had actually pulled back from him. He was surprised and not a little hurt. He was uncertain whether he should confront her and find out why she had become more reserved after it appeared they were getting close, but that decision was taken out of his hands when Beth had become more demanding and suspicious. Emily had to wait as he dealt with and eventually broke up with Beth, but he was still determined to find out why Prentiss had pulled away from him.

* * *

"Abs! Abby!" Gibbs called out as he hurried into the young Goth's lab carrying the usual fee of an extra large CafPow.

"Over here!" a muffle voice called out.

"Abby?" Gibbs looked around and saw a pair of long legs peeking out from underneath one of Abby's larger machines. He recognized it as Major Mass Spec.

"Gibbs!" came the plaintive cry. "Help! I'm stuck!"

"Abby?" He grasped her legs by her ankles, glad she was wearing pants today, and pulled her out with a sharp tug. He heard the rip of cloth and saw that one of the belt loops on her pants had torn loose from the cargo pants she was wearing.

"Finally!" the young woman gasped out as Gibbs helped her to her feet. "I go under Major Mass Spec to get a tube that rolled under there and he traps me!" She twisted around to try to assess the damage to her pants.

"Just a torn belt loop, Abs, no real damage," Gibbs assured her. "Now, what do you have for me?"

"Geez Gibbs, allow me to recover from my traumatic experience. I found the source of that smell that's been bothering me for two days." She held up what used to be an apple. "Remind me not to let DiNozzo bring food into my lab again."

"Abs, focus," Gibbs ordered, a hint of irritation in his voice. "What have you got on those samples Ducky brought to you?"

Abby was familiar with Gibbs' tones, and she knew this was the one that required her to answer him quickly. Additionally, she too wanted a resolution to the case that Ducky outlined for her. Unlike Gibbs, she didn't have anything against Agent Hotchner. He was always polite to her and she knew Emily liked the man. Since he wasn't a total jerk and Emily liked him, Abby was willing to be somewhat more tolerant of him. Besides, she couldn't imagine Agent Hotchner murdering anyone and Abby wasn't going to stand by and let an innocent man be charged with murder.

"I didn't find anything in Agent Hotchner's blood, but if it was something like GHB, it's been too long for any trace of it to remain in his blood."

"Got any other news for me," Gibbs asked, not pleased with the lack of evidence that would help Hotchner.

"Maybe," Abby replied. "If it was GHB, it metabolizes in the blood after 4-8 hours, in urine about 12 hours. However, if it was given to Agent Hotchner in a drink, there would still be traces of it in the glass."

Gibbs shook his head. "If there were any glasses, they're in control of DC Metro."

"What about the clothes he wore last night? If he was feeling the effects of the drug, he could have spilled some of his drink on himself."

Gibbs looked at his young friend for a moment and then grinned. He kissed her gently on the cheek. "Smart girl." He spun on his heel and left the lab, pulling out his cell phone. Abby could hear him saying, "Emily? Ask Hotchner what he did with the clothes he wore last night."

* * *

"Any luck yet?" Morgan asked Garcia as he brought up a plate of food for her.

"No!" the blonde snapped. She sighed and glanced apologetically at Morgan. "Sorry, I'm just so frustrated right now. This signal is bouncing all over the world and I can't get a lock on it." She shook her head grimly. "Whoever is doing this is good. I mean my level good." She looked at the plate Morgan set down next to her. "You have Mrs. Mundy cooking for you?"

"Hey! I didn't ask for it, she offered! Besides, I consider it payment. That woman has had me moving furniture and getting things for her all afternoon." Garcia could see that Morgan looked physically tired and he was somewhat sweaty. He had taken off his leather jacket and stood there in his short-sleeved t-shirt that clearly defined his sculpted body. Any other time she would have enjoyed the view, but she was bothered by the thoughts that had filling her head the past hour. Not having a poker face at all, her expression told Morgan there was something else on his friend's mind.

"What's bothering you, Baby Girl?"

"Derek, do we really think Beth had the tech skills for something like this?"

Morgan sighed. "I don't know, Momma. If she is obsessed with Hotch, this isn't what she would be doing, setting him up for her murder." He shook his head. "Emily would be the target, not Hotch."

"So we could be looking at someone else being responsible," Garcia replied.

"Someone we know nothing about."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates, but unfortunately, this is not my regular day job. THAT has been extremely busy so I can only sneak in bits of writing here and there when other things aren't going on. I also never meant for Gibbs and NCIS to play such a big role in this story, but Gibbs just doesn't seem to want to let go. Hey, he's worried about Emily. It's understandable. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Gibbs waited impatiently for someone to answer the front door. He could hear hurried footsteps on the other side before it suddenly swung open. The NCIS man found himself once again face to face with Aaron Hotchner.

"Hotchner."

"Gibbs." Hotch stepped back to let the other man into the house.

"Emily tell you what I'm looking for?" the older man asked as he strode into the living room.

"Yes, though I can't remember if there were any stains on my clothes from last night. However, we're lucky Kramer didn't confiscate them as evidence. That was a mistake on his part."

Gibbs turned to regard Hotch. "You're right. That is a mistake. Kramer usually doesn't make them, but it could be that he's being extra careful because of who you are." He looked around. "Where is everyone?"

"Emily is getting the spare key to my place and the others are following up leads."

"You're here, alone with Emily?" Gibbs didn't bother to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"Yes." Was Hotch's short and curt reply. "Is there a problem Agent Gibbs?"

"We just discussed this afternoon how someone, namely your psychotic girlfriend might be targeting Emily, and everyone leaves her alone?" Gibbs was furious.

"She's not alone, I'm here," Hotch snapped back.

"Because you did so well with Doyle," Gibbs sneered. "What was your solution? Pack her off to Europe where she was by herself! You don't protect Emily, you just push her aside so you don't have to deal with her."

"Stand down, Gibbs," Hotch growled.

"I'll stand down when someone decides to stand up for her because she sure as Hell isn't getting it from you or anyone else on this team!"

"You know nothing about our team or me. This isn't any of your business!"

"Emily is my business!"

"Not when she's here. Not on my watch."

"Your watch isn't worth shi-"

"What is going on here?" Emily cried out. She walked into the living room to find Hotch and Gibbs almost nose to nose, shouting at each other.

The two men glared at each other but Hotch finally bit out. "Nothing. Just a disagreement."

Emily looked between the two men, waiting for an explanation for the angry voices she had heard. Both men clamped their mouths shut, refusing to say anything further. She could hear the tone of their voices but was unable to make out the words until she was right at the door and all she heard was Gibbs' interrupted sentence. Her lips thinned into a line.

"Fine, don't tell me what you guys were arguing about, I hope it wasn't about me in any way," she said in a quiet voice. She held up Hotch's apartment key. "Here's the key, let's go."

Gibbs and Hotch stepped in her path as she started to move forward. She looked at both men in surprise and exasperation.

"Come on guys, let's not play this game," she sighed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gibbs frowned at her. "There could be some psycho out there," he threw Hotch a disdainful look, "Probably his psycho, who could be gunning for you."

"For once, I'll have to agree with Gibbs," Hotch said in a cool tone, practically curling his lip as he said the other man's name. "It's best if you stay here, Prentiss. Gibbs and I will go to my apartment."

The NCIS agent stared at Hotch. "You're not coming with me. You can't leave Emily here alone!"

"I'm not going to have you wandering around my home by yourself."

"But you're willing to leave Emily alone and exposed? Oh, that went so well last time with Doyle!"

"Stop it! Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Emily barked at both of them. "What is wrong with you two?" She sighed in exasperation and ran her hands through her hair. "This isn't helping at all. Look, I know you two would rather eat glass than work together, but the less internal fighting we have the faster we'll solve this." She took a deep calming breath and knew it would be up to her to settle tonight's argument. "Gibbs, take the key and get the clothes. Hotch and I will stay here." She laid a placating arm on Hotch, knowing he hated when anyone, let alone a man he had nothing but hostile feelings for, wandering around his sanctuary. "Gibbs is only interested in getting the clothes you wore yesterday. Just tell them where they are. I thought I saw your suit and shirt lying on a chair in your bedroom. It looked like what you wore yesterday. Is it?"

Hotch nodded. He wouldn't admit it, but Gibbs was right and he couldn't leave Emily alone. While he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and that Rossi had a state of the art security system she could arm to protect herself, he would feel better if she was with someone at all times. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Gibbs took the keys from Emily. He nodded once and started to move away, but stopped and said to Hotch, "Hotchner, walk me out." He turned and didn't wait to see if the other man followed him.

Aaron looked at Emily who shrugged. She knew Gibbs wasn't going to apologize to Hotch. The man didn't believe in apologizing, let alone to someone he didn't like, so she had no idea what he had to say to her supervisor.

Hotch smothered a sign of annoyance and followed the NCIS man outside where he found Gibbs standing by his car looking up into the night sky. It was an almost full moon and very bright. The light made Gibbs' silver hair shine in the night, a beacon in the dark.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Hotch asked, not wanting to spend any more time with the other man than was absolutely necessary.

"I wanted to ask you, your girlfriend know a lot about computers?" Gibbs shot out.

Hotch blinked for a moment, processing the abrupt question. "Beth? No. I mean, I don't think she knew more than an ordinary person. She could use a computer and the programs she needed for work. She had a smart phone and an iPad, but I don't think she was especially adept on them."

His answer troubled Gibbs. He turned to look at Hotch with clouded eyes. "Then we got a problem. If she wasn't a computer geek like McGee, then how could she switch around her dental x-rays or mess around with the security footage at her place?"

Hotch had been concentrating on his situation so much that he hadn't thought about these other details. Their importance hit him now.

"It means," Aaron said slowly, "That she either had computer skills I am totally unaware of…"

"Or she's working with someone who does." Gibbs let out a breath. "Or that body at the morgue is really Beth and someone else is doing all this."

"I like the first option," Hotch replied grimly.

"That would be the best one."

Hotch sent the man a piercing look. "But you're not convinced it is." It wasn't a question.

"My gut is telling me there's a lot more to this case than we know about." Gibbs sighed and opened the driver's side door of his car. Before he got in, he sent Hotchner a piercing looking. "Watch out for her. I can't shake this feeling Emily could be in a lot more danger than we think."

"Gibbs, despite what you think of me, I would never let anything happen to Emily." He owed the NCIS agent no explanation. Despite what Gibbs' opinion of him, Hotch would willingly lay his life down for Emily. He would do it for any of his teammates. And he would go to whatever lengths to protect her. Maybe he held back some with Doyle, not realizing at first what a threat the man was, but Hotch would not make that mistake again.

Gibbs took a step towards Hotch and spoke with such an intensity, the younger man couldn't help but be drawn in. "Good," Jethro said in a low voice, "Because let me tell you, Hotchner, when a woman you care about dies on you, and you know it's your fault, that her death was because of your actions, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life and eat you up alive. Nothing you do will make it right. Nothing will bring her back. You know can never make up for it. If anything happens to Emily, be prepared to live with that." His eyes turned into twin orbs of knife sharp blue crystals. "And if anything happens to Emily because of your psycho girlfriend, I'll make sure you pay for it."

Before Hotch could reply, Gibbs was in his car and driving off in a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber.

* * *

Hotch walked into the kitchen and stood there watching Emily as she did the dishes from their dinner. Her back was to him and for a moment, she looked small and vulnerable to his eyes, with her slender frame and dark hair cascading down her back. He thought back to Gibbs' words. He knew what it was like not having her in his life. While he knew she was alive in Paris, he too mourned her absence. She brought a steadiness to the team, a sense of humor and warmth. Some may assume JJ was the mother of the group, but Emily displayed far more maternal concern to her team members than the blonde did. She might have had her secrets, but she didn't hold her emotions back.

And for him? Unbeknownst to Hotch, she had become something of an emotional rock for him. After his divorce, New York, Foyet, Haley's death, it was always Emily's steady presence he could rely on. The others would be there, but at a distance, either unwilling to intrude on his privacy or uncertain what to do. But Emily, like she was for the rest of the team, was always there and he had never thanked her for it. Instead, he allowed a mentally imbalanced woman turn her into a target.

Not his finest act.

Cleaning always cleared her mind so hand washing the dishes gave Emily a chance to calm down from her anger at the high handed and overly alpha way Hotch and Gibbs had been acting. Her nerves were already on edge given what they found out this afternoon about the cameras in her apartment and Beth copying her wardrobe. The last thing she needed was hearing Hotch and Gibbs arguing. Correction, that was the second to the last thing. The last thing she needed were both men treating her like some porcelain doll that needed to be tucked away behind glass.

Emily knew how to deal with psychopaths. She caught them for a living and she's had one or two of them focused on her before. She knew how to take care of herself and she didn't need two Neanderthals acting like they knew better than she did.

"Dammit!" Emily cried out as she cut her finger on a knife that was sitting in the sink. She had been so preoccupied, she was careless and now she was bleeding.

"Here, let me see that."

She started, not hearing Hotch's approach. He took her hand and ran it under the water for a few seconds before he grabbed a paper towel to pat it dry.

"It's nothing," she said dismissively as he peered at the cut. "It's just a small cut."

"It's still bleeding," he replied calmly as he applied pressure with the paper towel.

Emily huffed out an annoyed breath and then became acutely aware that Hotch was still standing there, holding her hand. He was so close, she could smell his unique Hotch scent of sandalwood, musk and something completely male. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet and gently tried to tug her hand from his grasp. He didn't let go immediately, instead raising his eyes to look into hers. Time seemed to stand still and the only noise was the sound of their breathing. His grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly and he started to pull her towards him, her body willingly following.

Emily's phone rang, causing Hotch to drop her hand and both of them to step back from each other. He ran a hand through his hair as she scuttled away to pick up her cell phone from the island countertop.

"Prentiss." Her voice sounded a little ragged to her own ears. "What? Oh…" Emily's voice changed and she glanced over at Hotch. "Uhm, excuse me, this is just a personal call." She turned and walked out of the room, but not before Hotch heard her voice dip slightly into a soft, intimate coo as she said, "Hey, honey."

Hotch didn't realize his hand was curling into a fist.

* * *

Gibbs moved silently around the apartment, noting the neat, organized state. He knew Hotchner had a young son though he had never seen the child before. Emily had mentioned the boy was out of town with his aunt visiting his mother's side of the family. Good, no child needed to be exposed to this sort of thing. He moved towards the bedroom and paused to look at some framed photos hung on the wall. The boy was a bright haired thing with serious eyes. He could see some of Hotchner in the child, but a glance at another photo told him he also took after his mother.

Gibbs knew Haley Hotchner's story and he felt sympathy for the woman whose life ended too early and for the boy who lost his mother. He even felt sorry for Hotchner. When he had reamed out the FBI agent earlier about being prepared to live with the consequences knowing an innocent woman paid for his actions, he had forgotten that the man already knew what it felt like. Haley Hotchner had died because her ex-husband had pissed off a serial killer.

He really should apologize to the other man, but it wasn't in Gibbs' nature to do so. What happened with Haley should have made Hotchner more careful, more alert. Instead, he allowed himself to be sucked in by some flattery and a semi-pretty face, and Emily was likely going to pay the price for it.

Though, Gibbs thought as he made his way to the other man's bedroom, things weren't still adding up. He found Hotch's clothes, exactly where the other man said they would be. He didn't see any stains on them but Abby could find things the naked eye could not. He threw the clothes over his arm and as promised, started to leave the apartment.

Another photo on a wall near the door stopped him. It was a photo of Hotchner's entire team. It looked like it was taken at some office party. The blonde technical analyst was sitting in a chair, a party hat perched on her head. The others were gathered around her, leaning towards her for the photo. Emily was on the woman's right, one arm on the blonde's chair to help her balance. Hotchner was behind Emily, leaning towards the brunette, practically hunched over the woman's back. One of his hands was curled possessively around her waist and he had the biggest smile on his face that Gibbs had ever seen the man exhibit. Actually, Gibbs wasn't certain if he had ever seen Hotchner smile before. He definitely hadn't seen this somewhat giddy grin on the FBI agent's typically grim countenance.

He wondered for a guy who was supposed to be so smart and know so much about human nature why Hotchner didn't see his own feelings for Emily. Not that Gibbs was particularly thrilled to know the man had feelings for his friend. From what he had seen of Hotchner, Gibbs was less than impressed with him. A cold, political bureaucrat, who, as this case showed, was easily fooled.

Gibbs' lips thinned. However, it was Emily's choice. While he didn't think much of Hotchner, if Emily decided he was the guy for her, Gibbs wouldn't, couldn't interfere. He could make his opinions known and be there for her should things go bad, but he couldn't dictate her choices.

Before he left, he paused and took one more look around the apartment. Gibbs tilted his head as his eyes scanned the living room. It was dark so he had had to switch on the overhead lights. Shadows were cast throughout the room, but something had caught his eye. He tilted his head again and shifted his feet, trying to recreate the position he was in before and then he saw it: a faint glint on the floor right next to the couch.

Gibbs walked forward and bent down to retrieve the small memory card that was no bigger than half an inch. It was almost completely under the couch and its coloring blended with the carpet, almost camouflaging it. If the overhead lights had not just hit it a certain way and if Gibbs had not been standing where he had been, it would have been easily missed.

He examined his find. It was a memory card that looked similar to the ones that were in the cameras they used at NCIS. What was this doing here?

* * *

Garcia let out another small shriek of frustration as the trace she tried to run came up empty again.

"Are you alright, dear?"

The blonde's head snapped around and she saw Mrs. Mundy standing in the door way, a concerned look on her lined face.

Garcia tried to swallow her frustration and give the woman a pleasant smile. No, she wasn't okay. She had spent the last few hours futilely trying to find the source of the cameras that were set up in Emily's apartment and she was coming up with nothing.

"Just running into some issues, Mrs. Mundy," the younger woman said.

"Perhaps you should stop. You've been at this for hours and it's late."

Late? Garcia blinked and realized how dark it was. She glanced at her watch and gasped. It was almost midnight.

"Oh, Mrs. Mundy, I'm so sorry we've been here so long!" Garcia apologized. Where was Morgan?

As if reading her mind, Mrs. Mundy waved off the blonde's apologies. "Don't worry about it, dear. But you should get some rest. Your friend is already asleep."

"Asleep?" Morgan fell asleep on the job?

"Well, he was moving a lot of furniture around for me today and I'm afraid he exhausted himself. He fell asleep on my couch." She came forward to sit next to Garcia. She regarded the tech analyst with kind eyes. "What seems to be the issue?"

"Oh, er," Garcia said in a wary tone. "I'm just having trouble figuring out why Emily is having all these technical difficulties with her, uh, connections. WiFi and such."

Mrs. Mundy still looked kindly at the woman. "Bull feathers," she said in a pleasant tone. "Please, do you really think I was fooled by that young man's nonsensical dribble? Now, do you want to tell me the truth?"

Garcia swallowed. "Uh, we're trying to find the source of a signal."

"Hmmm, a backtrace," Mrs. Mundy mused as she leaned towards Garcia's laptop screen. "What protocols?"

"Huh? Wha-, wait, what do you mean?" The blonde gaped at the old woman in surprise.

"Dear, just because I'm old doesn't mean I know nothing about computers." She put on a pair of glasses. "They say two heads are better than one and from the looks of this you've been trying to trace a feed that's been bounced off of multiple servers in various countries."

Garcia could only gape at Mrs. Mundy.

"I won't ask what this is about, but if it's going to help Emily, I'm more than happy to lend a hand." Her fingers began to fly over the keyboard but paused when Garcia continued to stare at her. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"It's just-, I-, Morgan…"

"Oh that." The old woman blushed. "Yes, I guess I should have said something earlier but I did need a few things moved about, though maybe not that many." She blushed an even deeper pink. "I was trying to get the young man to remove his jacket and hopefully his shirt but I believe he's a bit shy."

"Mrs. Mundy!"

"Dear, I'm old, not dead." She snorted delicately. "Besides, trying to fool me with words like "megatron"? Really?"

Garcia smiled at the other woman and then patted her shoulder. "I think you've just become my new hero, Mrs. Mundy."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So here's the scoop. I apologize for not updating stories at a faster rate but at work has been insane. Really insane. So these updates are going to be a little slow and I'm very sorry about that, but as it is, work is leeching over into my spare time. So I'm just sneaking in a few minutes here and there to write. But I will keep updating. Just slowly. Second, in answer to some questions I have received. No, _La Folle_ is not in the same universe as my NCIS/CM A _Rose By Any Other Name_/_Perfect_. So there's no intersection of timelines and things that happen there might not be reflected here in _La Folle_ and vice versa. Also, I really did not intend to have Gibbs play such a major role in this story but it's just turning out that way. Third, I'm glad people like Mrs. Mundy but no, I had no idea there used to be a Criminal Minds writer named Chris Mundy. Maybe on some subconscious level I did, but as far as I know, I simply plucked the name out of thin air. Fourth, the nomination ballot is up for the 2012 Profilers' Choice awards. The link is: www. fanfiction topic / 74868/ 69379386/1/. Just take out all the spaces, but if that doesn't work for you, just go to the Criminal Minds Forums and go to "Chit Chat on Authors' Forum". Now on with our story!**

* * *

Emily glanced out of the corner of her eye at Hotch who had spoken only a few words to her since last night. Mainly "good night", "good morning" and "we should get going". They were on their way to see Rachel Burkhart to discuss her theory that her sister, Cassie, did not commit suicide when she was Beth Clemmons' roommate in college. They had decided to simply surprise Rachel. A search had revealed that Rachel was an editor for a local magazine. A quick call confirmed she was in her office. Emily had thought that during the car ride they would be discussing their strategy for approaching Rachel, but Hotch did not feel inclined to speak that morning. She cleared her throat.

"So, how do you think we should approach Rachel Burkhart?"

Hotch kept his eyes on the road. "Truthfully. We're investigating Beth Clemmons and Cassie's death came up during our investigation."

The tone was crisp and cool. Emily sent him another look, wondering about his distance today. It could be simply his focus on the case. Or it could he was upset about Gibbs' involvement. She knew the two men did not get along. Hate was perhaps too strong of a word, but there was at least very strong dislike. Emily had chalked it up to two alphas in the same room, and both men were the epitome of the alpha male. Add to it Gibbs' over-protectiveness of her, which Emily knew came from the many losses of women in his life, and his general disdain for anyone with a whiff of bureaucrat to him, it made for a volatile mix when he got around Hotch. And Hotch? Well, he was never one for bending the rules so Gibbs' usual loose interpretation of protocols would naturally rub the BAU leader the wrong way.

However, what other alternative did she have? They were put on stand down by AD Williams with no access to any resources that would help them in this case. Gibbs had contacts at DC Metro, access to labs, forensics, powerful computers. Irritation flared in Emily. She and Gibbs were helping Hotch out because his poor choice of girlfriends got him into hot water. And to top it off, the psycho was stalking _her_. If anything, she should be the one acting pissy and not Hotch!

As Emily was working herself into a righteous, irritated lather, Hotch should have been formulating his approach towards Rachel Burkhart. However, all he could think about was the call Emily received last night. He didn't know why that call should prey on his mind or why it had kept him up for a few hours last night as he lay in bed. Perhaps it was the soft, intimate way Emily had greeted the caller. "Hey, honey." Hotch had never heard her use that tone of voice before. It was a gentle, utterly feminine coo that made the recipient feel like the center of her world. It bothered him and he did not know why.

Aaron attributed it to the whole incident with Doyle. While he trusted Emily's judgment, he felt protective of her where men were involved. Too often he had seen how men had looked at her when they were on cases. How often had he sent her into the lion's den to tempt an unsub because he knew that was what the creep wanted? Who wouldn't want Emily Prentiss? He didn't like it that she might have a relationship with some man he did not know. How could he be certain if she was with someone who was safe? It was all strictly about her safety. That was all he was concerned about. Like a good friend would be.

Internally, Hotch nodded his head, happy that he finally had a reason for his irritation over Emily's call even as her "Hey, honey" echoed in his head in a mocking tone.

He hadn't realized he was driving past their address until Emily called out his name for what he suspected was not the first time. Hotch abruptly twisted the wheel and executed a very illegal U-turn that sent Emily hurtling against the passenger door and earned him an annoyed glare.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he parked the car.

_The Arlington Advocate_ was housed in a nondescript office building that was built in the late 1970s. Several sad bushes filled the low planters outside the building. Plain lettering on a glass door announced the magazine's name and a bright eyed girl who couldn't be older than twenty was manning the reception desk.

"May I help you?" she chirped in a friendly tone.

"We'd like to see Rachel Burkhart, please," Hotch requested in his most authoritative voice. He pulled out his credentials and showed them to the receptionist.

"Ooohhh! FBI! We haven't had the Feds come in here before!" she squealed in an eager tone. She suddenly dropped her voice. "So what's going on? Drugs? Terrorism?"

"Aren't you a lifestyle magazine?" Emily asked.

"We cover important stories too," huffed the girl. "This close to the Beltway you have to. Why, last issue we ran a story on the impact plastic bags have on the environment! It was all about this woman who makes these terrific purses from old shopping bags!"

"Er, sorry," Emily mumbled.

"Ms. Burkhart, we need to speak to her," Hotch said in a firm voice, trying to get the girl back on track as she tried to calm down her ruffled feathers.

"Yes?"

Both agents turned around. A pretty blonde woman carrying a cup of coffee stood behind them after just having walked through the front door. After seeing pictures of Cassie Burkhart, the resemblance was unmistakable.

"Are you looking for me?" Rachel pressed.

"They're FBI," the receptionist called out.

Rachel's eyebrows went up. "Perhaps we should talk in my office Agents…?"

"Hotchner and Prentiss," Aaron replied. He and Emily stepped aside to allow Rachel to lead the way.

"Amy, hold all my calls," the editor called out as she went around the reception desk to lead the way towards the back offices.

Hotch and Emily followed Rachel through a mini-maze of half-filled cubicles until they came to an office at the far back. She closed the door after them and sat behind her desk. The blonde folded her hands before her. "Now, how can I help the FBI?"

"We had a couple of questions about your sister," Hotch began.

"Cassie?" Rachel's voice scaled up in surprise. "Why do you want to talk about Cassie? It's been years since she died."

"We saw your memorial to her," Emily began. "You don't think she committed suicide."

Rachel's face darkened and they could see her clasped hands tighten in anger. "No. I still don't. Cassie had no reason to kill herself. She was happy, enjoying life. She was in love. Sure, she wasn't doing that well in some of her classes, but that was because she was too caught up in other things in college. There was no reason for her to commit suicide."

"If you don't think it was suicide, then you must think it was something else," Hotch began.

"You mean murder? You can say it because that's exactly what I believe and I know who did it. That bitch roommate of hers, Beth Clemmons."

Emily watched Hotch out of the corner of her eye, but beyond a slight tensing in his jaw that only someone who knew him well would notice, he showed no outward signs that he recognized the woman's name.

"Why do you think Miss Clemmons was responsible?" Hotch continued evenly.

Rachel took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "They were both sophomores and Cassie was going to room with this friend of hers who suddenly decided to transfer schools over the summer. So she got randomly assigned Beth Clemmons. They got along at first, but then Cassie noticed that Beth was always asking to borrow her clothes and then it got to the point where she didn't ask anymore. It seemed like Beth was one of those annoying roommates who just took stuff, but weren't really awful, you just didn't want to live with them. Beth also kept flirting with Cassie's boyfriend. Cassie laid down the law then and told Beth to back off. It seemed to get better and Beth at least didn't flirt with Tom, Cassie's boyfriend, in front of her. Then strange things started happening. A light out in a staircase and something slippery on a stair. Cassie almost took header. She managed to catch herself in time. Cassie also had her own car. Suddenly the brakes stopped working. A reckless driver almost mowing down Cassie as she walked back to her dorm room one evening. It could all be explained. Her car was really old. Light bulbs burning out in the stairwell was nothing new and people were always spilling stuff in it. She was walking along a dark road. She never came right out and said it, but she wondered if Beth was behind some, if not all, of these incidences. Cassie was going to put in a request to switch rooms, but then-, then…" Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes. She took a moment to gather herself. "Beth found her. Three months later she was dating Cassie's boyfriend. They stayed together throughout college until he moved to Europe."

"What did the police say?"

Rachel made a dismissive noise. "They didn't think it was worth investigating. They said Cassie left a note, but I _know_ that Beth wrote it. She was an art history major and also took a lot of art classes. I wouldn't be surprised if she had the talent to forge Cassie's handwriting." She shook her head. "No, Beth did it. She was after Cassie's boyfriend. Whatever Beth wanted, she made sure she got, by whatever means necessary. Cassie told me this story once about how Beth wasn't doing so well in one of her classes. Suddenly come end of the semester, Beth is pulling an "A" in the class. Cassie asked her how she did it because she didn't see Beth do anything different. No extra studying or getting a tutor. Beth got this look in her eye, a gleam, and said, 'I always get what I want and Professor Harney found that out.' Cassie had joked that she must have blackmailed her professor and Beth just smiled at her. That was the beginning of when Cassie started feeling nervous around Beth and wanted out of that room."

They talked to Rachel for a few more minutes, but she had nothing more to add. They were getting a clearer picture of Beth, a Beth Hotch had only caught brief glimpses of but it was becoming all too clear that this woman was quite capable of framing Hotch for her alleged murder.

They thanked Rachel and left. There was silence in the car for a few minutes. Hotch glanced over at Emily who stared out the window, but he could tell she wasn't watching the passing scenery nor purposely ignoring him. She had that look on her face that let him know something was bothering her.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said in a quiet voice.

She started and glanced over at him. He took a second to look away from the road to give her an encouraging look. She sighed.

"It's becoming more evident that Beth was likely a sociopath, but Morgan is right. If the object of her obsession is you, why frame you for the murder? Rachel clearly indicated that Cassie was targeted, not the boyfriend."

"But I broke up with her," Hotch reminded her. "I rejected her and it meant she had to get rid of both me and who she perceives is her rival. Remember what's going on with the Chicago case, with her other boyfriend. He dumped her and started dating another woman."

"Richard Martin and Mary Logan, both of whom are dead," Emily murmured. "Hopefully Rossi and Reid were able to talk to their families."

* * *

Morgan turned over and promptly was started violently awake when he crashed onto the floor. Startled, he looked around blearily, trying to get his bearings. It took him a moment to process the unfamiliar furniture and an abnormal profusion of lacey doilies, but then the events of yesterday came rushing back to him.

Mrs. Mundy's, Emily's neighbor's house.

He yawned, his jaw cracking as he opened it extremely wide. A crick in his neck made him wince as he moved too quickly. Cautiously, he moved his neck back and forth until it loosened up. With one hand, he rubbed his face and then carefully leveraged himself to his feet. He stretched and yawned again, looking around, wondering where Mrs. Mundy was and then realizing he hadn't seen Garcia in a while either.

Curious, he made his way up to the room the tech analyst had been camped out in since the previous day. He could hear voices chattering in some language he recognized as English but the words made no sense. He peered into the room and blinked, watching one blonde head and one white head bob up and down as they chattered on about remote servers, IP addresses and other things far beyond his comprehension. Realization struck him.

"You're a computer geek!" Morgan blurted out, his finger pointing, rather rudely, at Mrs. Mundy.

"Morgan!" Garcia chastised as the old woman blushed. "Don't take that tone with Granmora!"

Mogran stared at his friend. "What? Who the Hell is Granmora?"

"Language!" Penelope snapped.

"It's okay, dear." Mrs. Mundy patted the younger woman's hand. "He's just confused. Granmora is my online handle."

"And one of the biggest bad as-," Garcia caught herself in time.

"I'm online a lot, dear, I've seen and heard worse."

"One of the best hackers today. While you've been sleeping, she's been helping me find our slime ball."

"And we almost got the little creep," Mrs. Mundy said with an unholy gleam in her eye.

"So that means, shoo," Garcia waved a dismissive hand at Morgan as she turned her attention back to the laptop she and the old woman were huddled around.

Morgan looked from one woman to the next with a befuddled expression on his face, his presence totally forgotten by them. He stood there staring for a moment before he realized that they had essentially dismissed him. He wasn't used to being ignored, not by women, and definitely not by his Baby Girl. After a few more moments where they paid as much attention to him as they did the lamp in the corner of the room, he realized he was neither needed nor wanted here. Huffing out an irritated breath, he stomped off.

* * *

Later that evening, the entire BAU team, except for Garcia, was back, at Rossi's house. After leaving Garcia and her new found BFF to their computers, Morgan had sought out JJ and the two had been running down other potential leads: Beth's friends, her habits, etc. JJ was chuckling over his recap of his time with Mrs. Mundy when the others, including Reid and Rossi, back from Chicago, walked into the room.

"What's so funny?" Dave asked.

"Emily's neighbor," JJ supplied as she chuckled again.

"Mrs. Mundy? Why were you talking to Mrs. Mundy?" Emily was surprised.

"To get a trace started without going into your apartment and alerting whoever might be running the feed, we had to find a spot nearby and Mrs. Mundy's was the best place," Morgan explained. "The only thing is we find out that this little old lady is like this genius computer hacker and now she's helping out with the trace and-"

"And Morgan was deemed useless there," JJ smirked.

Everyone chuckled but Morgan and Rossi. The older profiler looked gravely at the others. "The person covered their tracks well enough that Garcia needs help to find the source?"

His question brought home some of the niggling doubts everyone had been having about this case. Perhaps they _were_ on the wrong track with focusing on Beth. Hotch cleared his throat. "What did you find out in Chicago?"

"Not much," Reid sighed. He sat down. "The Logan and Martin families didn't have much to add."

"His family did say that Richard was growing frustrated with Beth. She had become possessive, clingy, jealous without any reason to be. Or maybe she did," Rossi said mysteriously.

At Hotch's inquiring look, Reid added, "Mary Logan was a co-worker of Richard Martin's."

"It could be why she leapt so easily to you being involved with Emily," Morgan mused. "Her past experiences colored what she was seeing."

"One of Richard Martin's brothers remembered she had an aunt who died when she was still dating Richard. The aunt lived in Fairfax and left Beth some property. She might be hiding out there," Reid supplied.

"Already ahead of you, Reid," JJ replied. After searching a decade's worth of obituaries in the area she had found out about the aunt and tracked down the property. "Morgan and I checked it out. It was sold to a nice couple with three kids. They haven't seen Beth since the sale a few years ago."

"So we've got no real leads at this time," Emily sighed. The doorbell rang and Rossi went to answer it. He came back a moment later with a grim-faced Gibbs. "Somehow I think the news is about to get worse."

Gibbs threw her a look that was filled with concern and a touch of regret. Emily's heart beat a bit faster realizing this was going to be very bad news. She arched her eyebrow, but Gibbs turned and faced the rest of the group. "Ducky spent the day with the DC ME."

"And?" Hotch asked when the NCIS agent paused.

"After checking with Beth's doctors and looking at past x-rays, the ME and Ducky agree that the body found in the burning car is definitely Beth Clemmons."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, the plot thickens! There have been clues littered throughout the story. Let me know what you think.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you for the four nominations I got in the 2012 Profiler's Choice Fan Fic awards! I'm honored and touched. There are so many great stories and authors out there that I'm thrilled some of you have found my works worthy. If you go to the Forum's section, the ballot is up to vote. I also want to apologize for the length of time it's taking me to post updates. Work has been beyond insane and it's cutting into all of my time for things like, you know, sleep. Anyway, I hope folks enjoy this installment and thank you again for the nominations!**

* * *

"After checking with Beth's doctors and looking at past x-rays, the ME and Ducky agree that the body found in the burning car is definitely Beth Clemmons."

Gibbs' grim announcement was met with stunned silence. The BAU team could only blink and stare at the NCIS agent. Gibbs himself only had eyes for Emily as he carefully watched her reactions. He saw her blink, her lips parted but no sound came out. Then she slowly closed her lips and stared back at him with wide, dark eyes.

Morgan found his voice first. "There has to be some mistake."

"Ducky doesn't make mistakes and he's gone over it multiple times," Gibbs informed him.

"What about the possibility of a hacker switching medical records or altering them?" Reid chimed in.

"When Beth Clemmons was sixteen, she broke her arm in a skiing accident. Her pediatrician actually treated her for it. He retired fifteen years ago but still kept all his records. He never computerized his old files. The original x-ray is what Ducky and the ME used to confirm it was Beth. The Doctor remembered the broken arm clearly so no chance the x-rays were mislabeled or switched."

"So," Rossi cleared his throat, rallying from this devastating development. "We look at this case differently. Maybe Beth was the intended victim all along and not Hotch."

"Or it's someone who is after Hotch and Beth was merely a means to hurt him," JJ suggested.

"Aaron? What do you think?" Dave asked his friend quietly. Aside from Emily, the Unit Leader was the only other person who hadn't spoken.

Hotch's mind whirled in confusion. Beth was actually dead. Yes, he had broken up with her, but he had liked her at some point so he couldn't help feel some sadness that she was gone. But more importantly, their main suspect was dead. Was this yet another nightmare from his past coming to haunt him?

"It could be someone we came across in one of our cases," Hotch finally said.

"At least Emily isn't in any danger," JJ replied.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Gibbs stated in a grim tone.

Emily turned wide, troubled eyes towards the former Marine, knowing the other shoe was about to drop now. "Gibbs? What else is there?"

He pulled out a small chip from his pocket and held it up for everyone to see. "I found one of those memory flashy doo dads at Hotchner's apartment when I went to go pick up his clothes. Clothes that didn't give us anything. Just when I was leaving, I saw this lying almost underneath the couch. If the light hadn't hit it in a certain way, I would have missed it."

"What's on it?" Hotch asked sharply, knowing in the pit of his stomach he was not going to like the answer.

Gibbs merely handed it over to JJ who was sitting next to the laptop that was connected to Rossi's TV. She placed it in a reader and a series of image files appeared on the larger screen. She clicked on one and a picture of Emily came up.

All the files were pictures of Emily. As they clicked through the files, they saw each of them were photos of the brunette taken at least over a period of a few weeks, if not more.

"Damn," Morgan breathed out softly. "Em was being closely watched."

"That isn't the only problem," Gibbs noted in a voice heavily laced with worry. He had been staring at the photos for half the night, fear filling him with each one he clicked on. He may not be a profiler, but his gut was better than any book education and he knew these were more than just simple surveillance photos. He looked over at Hotch and Rossi and saw the two older men had spotted the problem immediately.

Morgan frowned and tilted his head to the side. He took over clicking through the photos from JJ. Slowly, the frown faded from his face to be replaced with panic and fear. He glanced over at Emily, concern etched on every feature.

"What? What is it?" JJ asked as she picked upon the anxiety of the older men. She looked around the room and saw some realization dawn on Reid's face too. "What is it? We knew Em was being watched by Beth, so what's the big deal with these photos?"

"Study how the photos are shot, JJ," Emily murmured. Her face didn't betray anything, but her comment told Gibbs she had seen it too.

JJ sighed and took control of scrolling through the pictures. She wasn't certain what she should be looking for or what had caught everyone's attention. "They're pictures of Emily going through her everyday life." JJ titled her head to the side and frowned. "They're all centered. Like the person who took them took great care in taking the picture." She clicked on another picture and it struck a familiar chord with her. She saw herself in the background wearing a blue blazer. JJ's frown deepened. She hated that blazer. It was an impulse buy and it was on sale, but it wasn't the most comfortable thing to wear. The one time she wore it was when they were in Chicago on a case four weeks ago. "That was taken in Chicago," JJ replied slowly. "If this was just about surveillance photos taken by Beth, would she follow Emily on a case out of town?"

"That's the problem," Rossi said grimly as he moved closer to the TV. "She wouldn't. If she was trying to get Emily's routine down, there would be no need to follow her out of town on a case. She would be studying her habits locally; what stores Emily shopped at, where she had her dry cleaning done, that type of thing."

"And look at the photos," Morgan continued. "Centered, focus, whoever took the photos cared about the subject. Cares about Emily."

"Which means this might have been about Emily all along, not about Hotchner," Gibbs finished. He turned to look at the brunette who sat silently by. "Emily, you _are_ the target."

All eyes turned towards the brunette who stared at various pictures of herself. Finally, she said in a low voice, "That last photo, it was taken just last week." She bit her lip the only physical sign of her anxiety. This person had been stalking her for so long and she was completely unaware of it. He had been in her home, watching her, following her hundreds of miles out of town and she had been blissfully blind to it all.

"Hey," Gibbs said to her softly as he sat down next to her on the couch. "I promise you, no one is going to come near you."

"I'll make certain of it," Hotch replied as he sat down on the other side of Emily. He looked sharply at Gibbs. "Thank you for your assistance, Agent Gibbs, but we can handle it from here."

"You've done a bang up job of it so far," was the older man's sarcastic reply. "I think you'd be safer at my place," he told Emily. All his distrust and lack of faith in the abilities of Hotch's BAU team came roaring back. Gibbs had lost too many people in his life and he wasn't about to lose another, not while he can do something about it.

"She's perfectly fine here!" Hotch snapped. "I won't let anyone near her."

"You're the reason this whack job has focused in on Emily!" Gibbs shouted. "If you had used your brain and seen Beth for the psycho she really was, she wouldn't have even _met_ Emily, let alone bring this other stalker into her life."

"How do you know this all stemmed from my relationship with Beth?"

"Where else could it have come from?" snarled Gibbs as he stood up. "Obviously Beth hooked up with someone who could help her with some of the more difficult things like setting up the video cameras in Emily's apartment, doing surveillance on her. This psycho found Emily because your nut job girlfriend got jealous of her! She got this guy to help her and he became obsessed with Emily and now she's in his sights."

Hotch stood up slowly and stepped into Gibbs' personal space. The FBI agent's face was mere inches from the other man's. His voice was a low growl, but everyone in the still room heard it as clearly as if he had been shouting. "Let's get this straight, Gibbs, Emily Prentiss is not one of yours, she's one of mine and we in the BAU take care of our own and we don't need NCIS' help."

"Stop it!"

Emily stood up, stepping between the two men and creating a buffer between them. "I do not need either of you to 'protect' me. You both seem to forget I'm a trained agent who can probably beat both your sorry asses." She pushed the two men aside, muttering under her breath, but still loud enough for everyone to hear, "Chauvinistic assholes."

The others stared at her in shock, though a smirk lurked around Rossi's lips. When Hotch glared at him Dave looked down and moved his hand to his mouth.

Emily went up to the TV screen and stared at the photo, the last one on the memory card. She looked at herself standing on a street corner, a paper coffee cup in her hand, staring at something off to her right. It was taken a week ago; she remembered when she last wore those clothes. From the lighting it looked to be at around lunchtime.

"Why kill Beth and frame Hotch?" she mused aloud. Emily turned to look at the others. "Beth, if really did have a partner and this is who's watching me, makes sense. If this person thought Beth might do me harm, he may have killed her to protect me. But why frame Hotch?"

"If he worked with Beth, he might believe what she did, that you two were involved," Reid replied.

"But he's been following me," Emily argued, "He must have seen that I'm not involved with Hotch."

"Doesn't matter with these obsessional types," Morgan replied as he moved towards the TV screen himself. "If he believes Hotch is competition, it's not going to matter if Hotch has never been over to your place."

"Well…" Hotch began.

Emily glanced at him over her shoulder while everyone looked at them in surprise or in Gibbs' case, a frown. "He dropped me off at my place once or twice after a case." She looked pointedly at Hotch, not wanting the others to know of the one night he spent at her home. It was perfectly innocent, he slept in the guest room, but she didn't need anyone to hear about it. It wasn't their business.

"We have anything on this computer partner?" Rossi asked.

"Garcia is still working on it," Morgan reported. "She's having a hard time tracking this guy's signal. He's good, good enough to give Baby Girl fits."

"Well, that's our best hope of finding this guy," Hotch began.

"There is another way…" Emily interrupted.

"Like Hell!"

"Absolutely not!"

Hotch and Gibbs spoke simultaneously, knowing exactly what Emily was thinking of doing.

"What?" the brunette asked in an irritated voice.

"You are not going to be bait," Hotch snarled, furious that the idea even crossed her mind.

"Garcia might be having a hard time tracing this guy's signal because I've gone sort of underground the past 48 hours. If he sees me, he might fire up the surveillance again," Emily argued.

Hotch stepped towards her and this time invaded her personal space. "Put that idea out of your head right now, Prentiss," he snapped, cold dread clutching at his heart at the prospect that this unknown man could get close to Emily, has been close to her without her being aware. "You are not going to be bait and that's final. I'm making it an order."

"For once I agree with Hotchner," Gibbs said in a cool voice. "We don't know what we're dealing with, no clue who this guy could be or where he is now. Too many unknowns to guard against. We can find him without you trying to lure him out."

"We?" Hotch arched an eyebrow at Gibbs. "This is not an NCIS case, Agent Gibbs."

"And it's not a Bureau one either," the NCIS man shot back. "But you guys need me now because I can get information you can't, like having McGee dump Beth's home, office and cell number. Her emails, every contact she may have had to try to figure out where she dug this guy up and who he is."

Hotch's lips thinned into a single line. Gibbs was right; they were still in the same situation they were yesterday, with no resources. Now, the stakes were even higher as there was a clear danger to Emily.

"How soon can McGee have that information?" Hotch asked in a heavy voice.

Gibbs was already pulling his cell phone out of his suit jacket. "If he's smart, he'll have it for me by the morning."

Hotch turned towards his team as Gibbs made his call. "Morgan, go back and check on how Garcia is doing. We need to know where that signal on those cameras is coming from."

"I'm on it," Morgan replied. He gave Emily's arm a quick, comforting squeeze as he walked past her to go back to Mrs. Mundy's house.

"Reid, go back to Beth's job and see if that's where she made the computer connection. She had to have found the guy somewhere and I remember her talking about how the gallery kept switching contractors for their IT services. See what you can get out from that chatty woman you talked to earlier. Rossi and JJ, I need you to get traffic footage and the security footage from my apartment building. Either I made my way back to my apartment and someone came by later to drug me or someone helped me back there. Either way, we know someone was in my apartment and they must have been caught on my building's security cameras and maybe some traffic ones."

"Someone hacked into Beth's apartment building's security cameras, what if the same happened with the traffic ones and Hotch's building?" Reid queried.

"I can't vouch for the traffic cameras, but my building is old school in that it's a closed system. Physical sabotage would have to happen to disarm the cameras and there are a lot of them, in very discrete and hidden places throughout the building. It's part of the reason I picked it," Hotch informed them. After what happened with Foyet, he made certain he and Jack were in the most secure building he could find, short of moving them into Quantico itself.

His team nodded, but Emily was eyeing him sharply, her name left off the list of assignments. "And what am I supposed to be doing, Hotch?" she asked waspishly, not happy with how her supervisor felt she needed to be packed away in cotton wool and put into a glass case.

"I'm going to need your help here, Prentiss," Hotch replied. "You have your assignments." It was more than hint he wanted the others gone.

"Come on, guys," Rossi said, pushing JJ and Reid towards the door. "We need to get ahead of this fast. We don't know when Kramer will be back looking to arrest Hotch."

"So what special project do you need me to help you with, Hotch?" Emily asked as soon as the others were gone. Gibbs was in another room finishing up his call to NCIS and they were alone. She didn't believe Hotch really needed her to work on anything here with him. She was certain he was just being high-handed again.

He almost smiled at her expression which clearly told him she didn't believe he really needed her for anything. But he actually did. "It's becoming more obvious that I was drugged, but there's a chance I might remember something. I've been getting occasional flashes, but nothing that makes sense. I need you to do a cognitive interview with me."

Emily blinked at him in surprise. She wasn't expecting that. "Are you sure? We may not get anything and…"

Hotch nodded, knowing why she was hesitating. What he might reveal could be embarrassing, especially in front of a subordinate.

"Maybe Rossi is the better person for this job," she began.

"No, you're actually the best cognitive interviewer we have," Hotch shook his head and she was. Emily's calm demeanor and her personality relaxed the interviewee, allowing them to remember details they wouldn't when questioned in a typical manner. She knew how to lead the person through potential traumatic moments and created a bond of trust between them. And it was this trust that made Hotch, while not entirely comfortable; comfortable enough to have her do it.

She peered intently into Hotch's face and saw he was completely serious about this. If he was willing to do this, she would have to agree. She nodded her head sharply. "Let's get to it."

* * *

**A/N 2: They're getting closer, but what will the cognitive interview review? For those who are looking for the Profiler's Choice nominees and how to vote, you can find it at:**

** topic/ 74868/73609377/1/ 2012-Profiler-s-Choice-CM-Awards-FINAL-VOTING-BALLOT-HERE**

**Just remove the spaces. There are a lot of very good authors/stories nominated so show your support by voting!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: The plot thickens but details are beginning to emerge. Hope you enjoy this next part and remember to vote in the Annual Profiler's Choice Awards. There are a lot of great nominees and here's a good chance to maybe find a new story you haven't read before. To vote, go to:**

**topic/ 74868/73609377/1/ 2012-Profiler-s-Choice-CM-Awards-FINAL-VOTING-BALLOT-HERE**

**Just remove the spaces. **

* * *

The ride to Hotch's apartment building was made in silence, though JJ stole a look at Rossi every now and then. Several times she thought of saying something and got as far as opening her mouth only to shut it again. When Rossi finally pulled into a parking space, he shut off the ignition and turned to look at JJ.

"What's on your mind? You've been wanting to say something since we left."

JJ squirmed slightly in her seat, not sure how to approach the subject, but she just had to know what Rossi thought. Afterall, he was close to both Hotch and Prentiss.

"Do you think Beth had a right to be suspicious about them? About Hotch and Emily?"

"That they're involved? No," Rossi said in a firm tone. But he paused and added, "But, I do think she picked up on some underlying emotions there that likely neither Aaron nor Emily themselves were aware of."

"So you don't think it was all in Beth's imagination?"

Something in JJ's tone caused Rossi to look at her sharply. "What is it?"

JJ sighed and got out of the car. Rossi did the same and she looked over the roof of the car at him. "Morgan was just saying something about it yesterday. He said that he's always seen something between them, like how Hotch doesn't seem to treat Emily the same way he does the rest of us." Rossi grunted a noncommittal noise, causing JJ to look sharply at him. "What? You've noticed it too?"

They started walking towards Hotch's apartment building. "I've known Aaron a long time and one thing he's always been is fair and equitable with his colleagues. In other words, he doesn't play favorites and he doesn't unduly punish someone unless they've done something to earn it. I've seen him act both ways towards Prentiss. Critical without cause to be, but he also listens closely to what she has to say. He takes her comments and advice seriously. He also watches her, especially when another man is around her. Remember when John Cooley came to visit her?"

"Back during her friend's Matthew's case?"

Rossi nodded. "I'm not even sure he realized it, but he was watching them from his office window. I notice he does that a lot, watches her from his office."

"Do you think he'll ever do anything about it?"

Rossi shrugged as he pressed the button on the intercom to call the security guard on duty at the desk. "I'm not sure if Hotch realizes what this could all mean. I hope if he does do anything about it, he waits until this entire mess is cleared up and over with."

"Why?"

"Because if he doesn't, he throws Emily right into this murder investigation."

* * *

Morgan frowned as he rang Mrs. Mundy's doorbell for a third time. Where were they? Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps and the door was yanked open.

"What?!" Garcia barked out.

"Baby Girl?" Morgan was startled by her appearance and her abruptness. Garcia's makeup was completely gone. Her hair was disheveled like she had been constantly running her fingers through it. She looked exhausted and more than a little annoyed.

"Oh it's you," Garcia said grumpily as she moved away from the door to let him in.

"Good to see you too, Garcia," Morgan replied in a slightly offended voice as he closed the door behind him. He followed Garcia as she went upstairs. "You and Mrs. Mundy make much headway?"

"We are so close, Morgan," Garcia replied. "I can just taste it!"

"I've got it!" Mrs. Mundy yelled out. Garcia and Morgan hurried to the spare room. The old woman looked up excitedly. "I've finally found the little bastard!"

* * *

"You sure you wouldn't prefer to have someone else do this? Rossi perhaps?" Emily asked Hotch again as they sat across from each other in two chairs, their knees almost touching.

"Like I said earlier, Emily, you're the best interviewer we have," Hotch reiterated. He smiled wryly. "Considering the urgency of the situation, I think any potential embarrassment is minor in comparison."

"Okay, let's get started." Emily's voice dropped and became low and soothing. "Close your eyes. Let's go back to two nights ago. You're finishing up some paperwork at the office. It's late. What do you hear? What do you smell?"

"Vacuuming," Hotch replied without hesitation. "Cleaning fluid, pine. It's late, no one but the cleaning crew is around."

"Do you stay?" Emily makes a note that it had to be around eight o'clock as that was the typical time the cleaning crew made it to their offices.

"No, I gather my things. The Berkeley and St. Paul files. I want to look at them later."

"Do you speak to anyone as you leave?"

"No. The cleaning crew is on the opposite end of the offices. I don't see anyone."

"Do you take the elevator to the parking garage?"

"Yes."

"Do you see anyone as you go to your car?"

"No, everyone is gone for the day."

"Okay, you get into your car and you drive. Where do you drive?"

Hotch frowns for a moment and then his brow clears. "Grocery store. I'm out of coffee at home and I don't feel like making dinner. I can get something at the deli there."

The grocery store was new information. He hadn't remembered going there before. However, Emily keeps her voice at the same low, soothing even tone it was before. "Okay, you've parked in the grocery store parking lot and get out of your car. You go inside. What do you see? Hear? Smell?"

"People, but not too many. It's not crowded but there are some people shopping. I can smell chicken. The rotisserie. I get my coffee. Some milk and oatmeal. Chicken. I think I want chicken for dinner. I go towards the rotisserie counter and then-"

"Hotch?" Emily asked when he paused. He's frowning, his forehead wrinkled. "What is it?"

"I don't get there," he falters. "I start to go there, but I don't get there."

"What stops you from going to the rotisserie counter?"

"I-, I'm not sure." Hotch's frown deepened as he tried to remember what happened. He can see himself picking up the coffee. He can see his hand reaching for the milk and placing it in his shopping basket. He can smell the chicken he has decided to buy for his dinner.

"Do you see someone? Hear something?"

_Aaron!_

Hotch's eyes fly open. "Beth. Beth was at the store and she called out my name."

"What does she say to you?"

_Please Aaron, we need to talk. I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I know I don't have any right to ask this, but I need your help._

"She's asking for help." He closed his eyes and concentrated. Memories begin to come back to him with Emily's gentle probing.

_There's this man, well, he used to service our computers at the museum but we discontinued his services when he made several of the female employees, myself included, uncomfortable. He's been sending me emails and calling me at home and work._

_That's a matter for the local police, Beth. Get a restraining order._

_I don't know if I need to go that far. He hasn't done anything except been persistent and given me a creepy feeling. Please, if you could just take a look at the emails and see if he sounds dangerous first. I know I have no right to ask you to do this, but I'm really scared, Aaron._

Hotch's eyes flew open. "I went with her, back to her apartment to look at the emails. When we got there, she showed me the emails and offered me a drink. Water. I had some water." He frowned again. "It gets fuzzy after that."

"Try to focus on your other senses. Sounds, smells, touch."

Hotch closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. Scratchy, he remembered feeling something scratchy. It was a woolen throw that Beth had in her living room. He was lying against it and it was scratching the skin on the back of his neck.

Voices. Angry voices. He could only understand some of the words.

_There's been a change in plans._

_What do you mean? I paid you a lot of money to take care of this!_

_I know, but I'm not going to let you hurt her._

_What? Oh for God's sakes, don't tell me you've fallen for that whore too?_

"There's someone else in the apartment with us," Hotch whispered.

_I am not going to let you hurt her!_

_What are you going to do about it? You're in as deep as I am and if I go down, so will you!_

_Not if you go down first._

_What are you doing? Get away from me! Help! Someone help me!_

"Breaking glass…he's hurting her, but _they_ want to hurt her. I can't let _them_ hurt her! I won't!"

"Who's there with you and Beth, Hotch?"

"Man, male voice. They want to hurt her! I have to stop them from hurting her!"

He was becoming more and more agitated and his hands began to move restlessly. Emily reached out to grasp his flailing hands and squeeze them comfortingly. "Shush, it's okay." Hotch must have been there when Beth was killed and he was unable to do anything about it. He had to have been drugged.

"No! I have to protect her! I have to make sure they don't hurt her! Emily!" Hotch yelled.

"Hotch! Hotch! It's okay, I'm here! Hotch!" He had risen from his seat. Emily stood too and grasped his shoulders, shaking him lightly to try to bring him back to the present. His eyes flew open and he looked wildly around him for a moment before his gaze settled onto her worried face. Hotch reached up with one trembling hand and he touched her cheek. Her surprised look caused him to jerk his hand away, as though the warm skin had scalded him.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Hotch nodded. "Yes." It came out raspy and Hotch cleared his throat. "It seems there was someone else in the apartment with me and Beth. She used the ruse of a stalker to get me over there."

"But what caused the change in plans? Why did her partner kill her?" Emily frowned. "You said 'they want to hurt her', are you sure it was just one man's voice you heard?"

Hotch stared at her a moment. He opened and closed his mouth and then said abruptly. "Excuse me." He brushed past her to go to the bathroom, passing Gibbs who had been standing in the doorway listening, without another glance.

Emily looked after Hotch in surprise and then turned to look at Gibbs. "What was that about?"

"You don't understand what just happened?" Gibbs came forward to stand in front of Emily.

"If I did, I wouldn't have asked," she said dryly. "It was a horrible thing for Hotch to witness and I can't imagine how helpless he felt witnessing Beth's murder and being unable to do anything, but Hotch would be zeroing in on these details to catch her killers."

"Killer."

"What?"

"He didn't hear more than one voice, just Beth and the man."

"But he clearly kept saying 'they want to hurt her.' That means more than one man involved in Beth's murder."

"No, he was referring to Beth and the man, they're the 'they'."

"What are you talking about? Who's the' her' they were planning on hurting?"

"You, and Hotchner realizes it. The original plan was probably to kill you, but Beth's accomplice didn't want to do that. Hotchner overheard them talking about it and knew he had to stop them."

Emily sat down abruptly and stared up at Gibbs in dumbfounded amazement. "I was the original victim?"

Gibbs sat down next to her and nodded his head. "I'm just guessing here, but with Beth luring Hotchner over to her place and drugging him, she wanted him out of the way for a while. If her plan was to kill you, she wouldn't need to do that unless she was thinking of using him some way. My guess? She was going to frame him for your murder."

"But what would that get Beth?"

"Depends on what she wanted. If she just wanted to see him fry, then she just lets him take the fall for it. If she wants him owing her, she gives him a false alibi. With his fuzzy memory, Hotchner may never be sure if she was lying or not."

Emily sighed and shook her head. "Poor, Hotch. He needs to realize this isn't his fault. I don't blame him."

Gibbs pressed his lips together but finally just said, "Just give him a few minutes." He could tell Emily hadn't caught on. She didn't notice the desperation and fear in Hotchner's voice when he called out her name. Hotchner wasn't calling out to her to bring him out of the cognitive interview, he was calling out to her because he was back in Beth's apartment desperate to protect the woman he cared deeply for. His cry was of a man who would give his life for the woman whose name he was calling, a woman with whom he was in love.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you for everyone's patience regarding my fics. An assorted series of things, mostly work related, has prevented me from doing too much writing. If I can make the same kind of money from writing fan fic, I'd rather do that!**

**I hope folks enjoy this. It is getting closer to an ending. Let me know what you think.**

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Hotch placed his trembling hands under the cold stream of water as it flowed quietly from the faucet. He cupped a small amount and bent over to splash it onto this face. He repeated this several times before he raised his head to stare into the mirror, hands gripping the sides of the sink. Beads of water dripped down his face as his shadowed eyes stared back at him.

His recently regained memories played out in a kaleidoscope of disjointed scenes, some clearer than others, all leaving him unsettled. He could remember the ugly, twisted look on Beth's face as she snarled out the obscene plans she had for Emily, but he couldn't remember what the man in the apartment looked like. He could remember the cold panic that filled him as his limbs refused to work. If he didn't move, if he didn't stop them, they would hurt Emily. He couldn't let that happen, but he was powerless to do anything. That inability to move, the helplessness sent him back to his time with Foyet. Had he been able to work his limbs, they would have been thrashing about in fevered panic.

His hands. Hotch could remember the other man's hands as they closed around Beth's throat, cutting off her screams in a strangled gasp as he tightened his grip. They were large hands. Strong hands. A that scar ran on his right one. His hands, Hotch would remember the man's hands, but he couldn't remember his face.

He could almost hear the sick sound Beth's body made as the man let go and she hit the floor, dead. He could do nothing as the man wrapped her body in a blanket and left the apartment with her. He came back for Hotch, throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Hotch was a big man, tall and lean with muscle that made him heavier than he looked, but this man carried him easily and with little difficulty, only omitting a soft grunt as Hotch was hoisted up.

His memories become fuzzy after that. Hotch remembered the vague sensation of being jostled about as the man went up and down stairs. He found himself being dropped unceremoniously into a bed, his bed. The scent of the sheets were familiar but not comforting. He could feel panic rise in him again with the thought of a stranger in his home, and he helpless. He flashed back to Foyet again and while he desperately struggled to get up, but his body failed to respond. He could only lie there helplessly as the man moved around in his apartment. Hotch waited anxiously, wondering what he would do next.

He could feel the man stand next to the bed, looking down at him, but he couldn't turn his head to see the man's face.

"You don't deserve her," the man said in a gruff voice. "Any man who could pass over her for a cheap whore like Beth Clemmons, doesn't deserve someone as fine and wonderful as Emily. She's better off without you. You don't deserve her. Cheap trash, that's what you deserve."

Hotch waited for a blow, a strike from this man who stood over his helpless body, but the man simply moved away. Hotch could hear him moving around in the apartment and the front door close after him. He was alone, but still helpless.

His memories completely disappear after that and Hotch realized he must have fully succumbed to the effects of the drug and fallen unconscious.

Hotch hands gripped the sides of the sink and he peered at his reflection in the mirror. Adrenaline coursed through his body as the remembered panic and fear from that night filled him. It was natural to be scared in that situation, to feel that fear, but Hotch knew it wasn't all about himself. That night, he wasn't so much frightened for himself, but for Emily.

Beth wanted to hurt her, torture her before she killed Emily, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was powerless and all he could do was listen to every sick detail of Beth's plan. But it wasn't even Beth that scared him the most. It was the man. The faceless man with the scar on his right hand. Hotch could almost feel the danger radiating off of him. This man wanted Emily. This man would hurt Emily. This man would kill Emily, but not for a very long time. He would prolong her suffering for his own sick desires.

And Hotch could not stop him.

Hotch stared at his reflection and watched as his mouth thinned into a single line, his lips disappearing as his eyes hardened into the cold onyx.

He was no longer helpless, no longer paralyzed by whatever drug was given to him. He could protect Emily Prentiss now. No man was going to get near her. Hotch didn't realize it as he stood in the bathroom, wiping his face dry with a towel, but his own situation became secondary in his single-minded focus to make sure that this faceless, nameless threat got nowhere near the beautiful brunette.

For the first time in 48 hours, Hotch felt focused, determined. The confusion, the doubt was gone and he knew what he had to do, what he _would_ do. He opened the bathroom door to return to the living room and almost ran into Gibbs who had been waiting for him in the hallway.

The two men silently regarded each other, one man, a man of few words, the other who knew the power of silence. Gibbs' icy blue eyes scrutinized Hotch closely and the younger man submitted to the intent examination. Hotch had never met a man as hard to read as Gibbs. Nor as cold. Yet, Prentiss seemed to find something inside the man that made her feel comfortable enough to go Gibbs and ask for help, something she resisted doing with her own teammates, with him. The BAU members had to practically strong arm Emily to accept help, yet she was the first to give it.

However, with Gibbs, she never hesitated in seeking him out. A flare of jealousy went up in Hotch that he tried to hide. He thought he was successful, but something in his eyes must have betrayed him as Gibbs' gaze sharpened. The NCIS man took a half step towards Hotch, his intense stare never wavering.

Hotch felt his irritation and anger flare wildly up within him. Who did this man think he was acting so territorial about his Emily?

His heart and all thoughts stopped saved for one, _His Emily_? In that single moment, everything became so simple and clear: his overwhelming desire to protect Emily, his intense fear for her safety, his jealousy over her relationship with Gibbs. Hotch realized then and there, he had feelings for the brunette. Strong feelings, perhaps he was even in love with her.

He couldn't hide his emotions this time and the stunned look on Hotch's face told Gibbs that the FBI agent realized something Jethro had suspected for a while: Aaron Hotchner had feelings for Emily.

"You going to do anything about it?" was Gibbs' quiet question.

What "it" was didn't need to be explained. Hotch knew his feelings were written all over his face and that Gibbs had read them accurately. However, Aaron had no answer for the NCIS agent's question. What was Hotch going to do about his newly realized feelings?

"Now's not the time," the dark-haired man replied slowly. He shook his head. "Not with this murder investigation hanging over my head."

"And the threat to Emily," Gibbs added. He watched as Hotch's gaze hardened to the same look he saw when the younger man exited the bathroom. He let out a soft grunt of satisfaction. "Nice to know you're thinking straight. Kramer is looking for this 'other woman'. If he catches wind you're interested in Emily, he'll drag her into his investigation." He looked sharply at Hotch. "I won't have her go through that, have her be the subject of whispers and glances. She's been through enough with Doyle."

"And you don't think I know that?" Hotch snapped.

"I sometimes wonder," Gibbs growled back. "You were after all the one who cut her off, set her adrift while Doyle was out there."

Hotch swallowed an annoyed retort. It wasn't the first time he had this argument with Gibbs and every time the other man brought it up, he felt the same overwhelming feelings of guilt over his decision to send Emily into hiding. At the time, he thought it was the only option open to them, but with the luxury of distance from the situation, he now doubted the wisdom of his actions. He had essentially left Emily alone, only able to rely on herself, exactly what the team had rebelled against when she decided to take on Doyle alone. Hotch had forced her into that situation and he regretted it every day.

But he wasn't going to admit that to Gibbs.

"I am well aware of your feelings," Hotch replied in a cold voice. "Right now, that incident and this conversation are irrelevant. We have a killer to catch, a killer who appears to be focused on Prentiss. That takes priority."

Gibbs' mouth thinned and his eyes bore into Hotch. The other man glared back unflinchingly. The staring contest might have gone on for longer if Rossi had not stepped into the hallway looking for both men. Dave glanced from one to the other, trying to discern what had occurred.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked in the mildest of voices.

Two heartbeats went by before Hotch answered. "No, nothing. Right Gibbs?"

Another two heartbeats passed before Gibbs merely grunted and swung around to look at Rossi. "No nothing." His head tilted to the side. "You got those tapes?"

Rossi looked at the two men a moment longer and then nodded. "We're just about to fire them up."

Gibbs merely grunted again and brushed passed Rossi. Dave stared after the NCIS agent's retreating back for a moment before he turned back to look at Hotch, an eyebrow raised in inquiry. "Everything okay?" His sharp eyes didn't miss the fact that his friend's shirt collar and cuffs were slightly damp.

"I remember a little more from that night," Hotch replied reluctantly.

Rossi straightened and his eyes sharpened. "You do? What do you remember?"

"They wanted to hurt Emily. That was their plan, I think. Hurt her and frame me for it. Beth, Beth intended to make her suffer first," Hotch responded slowly.

"They? You remember another person?"

"A man. Can't remember his face or if Beth ever said his name. Big brute, strong and he has a scar on the back of his left hand. A curving scar near the knuckles. I do know he's the one who took me back to my apartment."

"Then we need to take a look at those tapes," Rossi replied. "If he took you back, he should show up on one of them."

Hotch nodded. "Let's go look at them. The sooner we ID this guy, the sooner we can stop him from coming after Emily."

The two men headed back to the living room where Morgan and JJ had joined Gibbs and Prentiss.

"Emily was telling us you remember a little bit more that night," Morgan asked Hotch.

Hotch glanced at Emily who looked at him with worried eyes. He nodded in response to the other man's question. "There was a man there with Beth. They drugged me and I think they might have been planning to do something to Prentiss and frame me. The man killed Beth. I can't remember his face, but he has a scar on the back of his hand. I do know he was the one who took me back to my apartment. He has to be on those tapes. Every entrance has a camera on it as well as the stairwells, one on each floor."

"Could he have disabled them?" JJ asked as she loaded up the video on the laptop.

"They're very discreet and on a closed system. Hard to hack into and if you don't know where the cameras are, hard to take out all of them."

"Well find out," JJ murmured as she pressed play.

It took JJ a few minutes to find the appropriate time period. There were four different entry points into Hotch's apartment building. They skipped the front entrance for now and started with the least used doors which were the back and west side entries. After an hour of looking through video for the four entrances, they had found nothing.

"It has to be here," Hotch murmured. "There wasn't even a blip to show the recording had been stopped or edited."

"Where do you park your car?" Gibbs asked.

"Garage," Hotch replied. "But the elevator from there is well trafficked." He sighed. "But worth a shot. JJ, plug in that video."

Fifteen minutes later they came up dry, the garage elevator video showing nothing.

"How the Hell did he get you into your apartment, Hotch?" Morgan asked in frustration.

"I don't know!" Hotch was equally frustrated.

"Think harder," Gibbs' hard voice ordered. "There's got to be another way upstairs."

Hotch glared at the man but knew he was right. He stared off into space, trying desperately to think of another way up to his apartment. There weren't many options, it was a secure building. It was why he was living there. Then it hit him.

"Service elevator in the garage," Hotch blurted out abruptly. "It's at the far end of the garage."

"Is there a camera?" JJ asked as she pulled up the menu that organized the entries for the different cameras.

"Not in the camera, but in the elevator itself. Sometimes residents use the service elevators if they're transporting large things to their car in the garage. They installed the camera to make sure nothing happens to anyone." He leaned over JJ's shoulder and pointed to an entry. "SEG1, I think that's the entry for it."

JJ started the video and found the right time period. She was still scrolling through the video when Emily cried out. "Stop! Right there."

JJ immediately paused the film, rewound it a bit and allowed the video to play at normal speed. They all watched as a large man entered the elevator carrying rolled up rug thrown over one shoulder.

Rossi whistled. "Big brute," he murmured as he peered at the screen. They couldn't see Hotch, but it was obvious he was in the rolled up rug.

"He's not looking up into the camera," JJ murmured.

"Without seeing Hotchner, we can't even prove that's anything more than a rug," Gibbs added.

"But it's him," Hotch replied grimly as the man reached up to adjust his burden. He reached over JJ to freeze the picture. "The scar on the back of his hand."

"We need to see his face," Morgan replied.

"We're not getting it off this tape," JJ sighed as the man stepped off the elevator, the camera never once catching his face.

"Maybe we do," Emily replied as she moved over next to JJ. She rewound the tape and then paused it. "What do you see?"

Everyone peered at the tape, but couldn't see what Prentiss was excited about. "You can't see his face, Em," Morgan replied.

"Yes, you can, his profile at least," Emily told him. "Look at the control panel next to him. It's highly polished and reflective. What do you see there?"

They all gazed at where she indicated and just there, they could make out the hawk-like profiled of the killer.

"Gotcha," Hotch breathed out.


End file.
